CHAPTER V.
A few days passed in the most entertaining manner. A menu of amusementswas regularly prepared suitable to a catholic taste, and at every turn theBaron was struck by the enterprise and originality of his friend. He had,however, a national bent for serious inquiry, and now and then doubtscrossed his mind whether, with all his moral drawing, he was acquiringquite as much solid information as he had set out to gain. This idea grewupon him, till one morning, after gazing for some time at the Englishnewspaper he always made a point of reading, he suddenly exclaimed,"Bonker, I haf a doubt!"
"I have many," replied Mr Bunker; "in fact, I have few positive ideasleft."
"Bot mine is a particulair doubt. Do I lairn enoff?"
"My own conception of enough learning, Baron, is a thing like athreepenny-bit--the smallest coin one can do one's marketing with."
"And yet," said the Baron, solemnly, "for my own share, I am notsatisfied. I vould lairn more of ze British institutions; so far I haflairned of ze pleasures only."
"My dear Baron, they are the British institutions."
The Baron shook his head and fell to his paper again, while Mr Bunkerstretched himself on the sofa and gazed through his cigar-smoke at theceiling. Suddenly the Baron gave an exclamation of horror.
"My dear Baron, what is the matter?"
"Yet anozer outrage!" cried the Baron. "Zese anarchists, zey are tooscandalous. At all ze stations zere are detectives, and all ze ships arebeing vatched. Ach, it is terrible!"
Mr Bunker seemed struck with an idea, for he stared at the ceiling withoutmaking any reply, and his eyes, had the Baron seen them, twinkledcuriously.
At last the Baron laid down his paper.
"Vell, vat shall ve do?" he asked.
"Let us come first to Liverpool Street Station, if you don't mind, Baron,"his friend suggested. "I have something in the cloak-room there I want topick up."
"My dear Bonker, I shall go vere you vill; bot remember I vant to-day moreinstrogtion and less entertainment."
"You wish to see the practical side of English life?"
"Yah--zat is, yes."
Mr Bunker smiled.
"Then I must entertain myself."
As they drove down he was in his wittiest humour, and the Baron, in spiteof his desire for instruction, was more charmed with his friend than ever.
"Vat fonny zing vill you do next, eh?" he asked, as they walked arm-in-arminto the station.
"I am no more the humourist, my dear Baron,--I shall endeavour to edifyyou."
They had arrived at a busy hour, when the platforms were crowded withpassengers and luggage. A train had just come in, and around it the bustlewas at its height, and the confusion most bewildering.
"Wait for me here," said Mr Bunker; "I shall be back in a minute."
He started in the direction of the cloak-room, and then, doubling backthrough the crowd, walked down the platform and stopped opposite aluggage-van. An old gentleman, beside himself with irritation, wasstruggling with the aid of a porter to collect his luggage, and presentlyhe left the pile he had got together and made a rush in the direction of alarge portmanteau that was just being tumbled out. Instantly Mr Bunkerpicked up a handbag from the heap and walked quickly off with it.
"Here you are, Baron," he said, as he came up to his friend. "I find thereis something else I must do, so do you mind holding this bag for a fewminutes? If you will walk up and down in front of the refreshment-roomshere, I'll find you more easily. Is it troubling you too much?"
"Not vun bit, Bonker. I am in your sairvice."
He put the bag into the Baron's hand with his pleasantest smile, andturned away. Rounding a corner, he came cautiously back again through thecrowd and stepped up to a policeman.
"Keep your eye on that man, officer," he said, in a low confidentialvoice, and an air of quiet authority, "and put your plain clothes' men onhis track. I know him for one of the most dangerous anarchists."
The man started and stared hard at the Baron, and presently thatunconscious nobleman, pacing the platform in growing wonder at Mr Bunker'slengthy absence, and looking anxiously round him on all sides, noticedwith surprise that a number of quietly dressed men, with no apparentbusiness in the station, were eyeing him with, it seemed to him, aninterest that approached suspicion. In time he grew annoyed, he returnedtheir glances with his haughtiest and most indignant look, and finally,stepping up to one of them, asked in no friendly voice, "Vat for do youvatch me?"
The man returned an evasive answer, and passing one of hisfellow-officers, whispered, "Foreign; I was sure of it."
At last the Baron could stand it no longer, and laying the bag down by thedoor of the refreshment-room, turned hastily away. On the instant MrBunker, who had watched these proceedings from a safe distance, cried in aloud and agonised voice, "Down with your men, sergeant! Down, lie down! Itwill explode in twenty seconds!"
And as he spoke he threw himself flat on his face. So infectious were hiscommanding 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 toprostrate himself, and at that there could be no further doubt of theimminence of the peril.
The cabs rattled and voices sounded from outside; an engine whistled andshunted at a far platform, but never before at that hour of the day hadLiverpool Street Station been so silent. All held their breath and heardtheir hearts thump as they gazed in horrible fascination at that fatalbag, or with closed eyes stumbled through a hasty prayer. Fully a minutepassed, and the suspense was growing intolerable, when with a loud oath anold gentleman rose to his feet and walked briskly up to the bag.
"Have a care, sir! For Heaven's sake have a care!" cried Mr Bunker; butthe old gentleman merely bent over the terrible object, and, picking itup, exclaimed in bewildered wrath, "It's my bag! Who the devil brought ithere, and what's the meaning of this d--d nonsense?"
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" roared Mr Bunker; while like sheepish mushrooms thepeople sprang up on all sides.
"My dear sir," said Mr Bunker, coming up to the old gentleman, and raisinghis hat with his most affable air, "permit me to congratulate you onrecovering your lost property, and allow me further to introduce my friendthe Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg."
"Baron von damned-humbug!" cried the old gentleman. "Did you take my bag,sir? and if so, are you a thief or a lunatic?"
For an instant even Mr Bunker himself seemed a trifle taken aback; then hereplied politely, "I am not a thief, sir."
"Then what _'ave_ you been doing?" demanded the sergeant.
"Merely demonstrating to my friend the Baron the extraordinary vigilanceof the English police."
For a time neither the old gentleman nor the sergeant seemed quite capableof taking the same view of the episode as Mr Bunker, and, curiouslyenough, the Baron seemed not disinclined to let his friend extricatehimself as best he could. No one, however, could resist Mr Bunker, andbefore very long he and the Baron were driving up Bishopsgate Streettogether, with the old gentleman's four-wheeler lumbering in front ofthem.
"Well, Baron, are you satisfied with your morning's instruction?" askedhis friend.
"A German nobleman is not used to be in soch a position," replied theBaron, stiffly.
"You must admit, however, that the object-lesson in the detection ofanarchy was neatly presented."
"I admit nozing of ze kind," said the Baron, stolidly.
For the rest of the drive he sat obdurately silent. He went to his roomwith the mien of an offended man. During lunch he only opened his lips toeat.
On his side Mr Bunker maintained a cheerful composure, and seemed not awhit put about by his friend's lack of appreciation.
"Anozzer bottle of claret," said the Baron, gruffly, to a waiter.
Mr Bunker let him consume it entirely by himself, awaiting the resultswith patience. Gradually his face relaxed a little, until all at once,when the
bump in the bottom of the bottle was beginning to appear abovethe wine, the whole room was startled by a stentorian, "Ha, ha, ha!"
"My dear Bonker!" cried the Baron, when he had finished laughing, "forgifme! I begin for to see ze moral, ha, ha, ha!"
The Lunatic at Large Page 13
