Count Bunker

by J. Storer Clouston

  CHAPTER III

  With mirrors reflecting a myriad lights, with the hum of voices, therustle of satin and lace, the hurrying steps of waiters, the bubblingof laughter, of life, and of wine--all these on each side of them, anda plate, a foaming glass, and a friend in front, the Baron and his hostsmiled radiantly down upon less favored mortals.

  "Tulliwuddle is very late," said Essington; "but he's a devilish casualgentleman in all matters."

  "I am selfish enoff to hope he vill not gom at all!" exclaimed theBaron.

  "Unfortunately he has had the doubtful taste to conceive a curiouslyhigh opinion of myself. I am afraid he won't desert us. But I don'tpropose that we shall suffer for his slackness. Bring the fish, waiter."

  The Baron was happy; and that is to say that his laughter re-echoedfrom the shining mirrors, his tongue was loosed, his heart expanded, hisglass seemed ever empty.

  "Ach, how to make zis joie de vivre to last beyond to-night!" he cried."May ze Teufel fly off mit of offeecial duties and receptions and--andeven mit my vife for a few days."

  "My dear Baron!"

  "To Alicia!" cried the Baron hastily, draining his glass at the toast."But some fun first!"

  "'I could not love thee, dear, so well, Loved I not humor more!'"

  misquoted his host gaily. "Ah!" he added, "here comes Tulliwuddle."

  A young man, with his hands in his pockets and an eyeglass in his eye,strolled up to their table.

  "I'm beastly sorry for being so late," said he; "but I'm hanged ifI could make up my mind whether to risk wearing one of these frilledshirt-fronts. It's not bad, I think, with one's tie tied this way. Whatdo you say?"

  "It suits you like a halo," Essington assured him. "But let me introduceyou to my friend the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg."

  Lord Tulliwuddle bowed politely and took the empty chair; but it wasevident that his attention could not concentrate itself upon sublunarymatters till the shirt-front had been critically inspected andappreciatively praised by his host. Indeed, it was quite clear thatEssington had not exaggerated his regard for himself. This admirationwas perhaps the most pleasing feature to be noted on a briefacquaintance with his lordship. He was obviously intended neither for astrong man of action nor a great man of thought. A tolerable appearanceand considerable amiability he might no doubt claim; but unfortunatelythe effort to retain his eye-glass had apparently the effect of forcinghis mouth chronically open, which somewhat marred his appearance; whilehis natural good-humor lapsed too frequently into the lamentations ofan idle man that Providence neglected him or that his creditors were tooattentive.

  It happens, however, that it is rather his circumstances than his personwhich concern this history. And, briefly, these were something inthis sort. Born a poor relation and guided by no strong hand, he hadgradually seen himself, as Reverend uncles and Right Honorable cousinsdied off, approach nearer and nearer to the ancient barony of Tulliwuddle(created 1475 in the peerage of Scotland), until this year he hadactually succeeded to it. But after his first delight in this piece ofgood fortune had subsided he began to realize in himself two notabledeficiencies very clearly, the lack of money, and more vaguely, thewant of any preparation for filling the shoes of a stately courtierand famous Highland chieftain. He would often, and with considerablefeeling, declare that any ordinary peer he could easily have become, butthat being old Tulliwuddle's heir, by Gad! he didn't half like the job.

  At present he was being tolerated or befriended by a small circle ofacquaintances, and rapidly becoming a familiar figure to three or fourtailors and half a dozen door-keepers at the stage entrances to diversMetropolitan theatres. In the circle of acquaintances, the humoroussagacity of Essington struck him as the most astonishing thing he hadever known. He felt, in fact, much like a village youth watching hisfirst conjuring performance, and while the whim lasted (a period whichEssington put down as probably six weeks) he would have gone the lengthof paying a bill or ordering a tie on his recommendation alone.

  To-night the distinguished appearance and genial conversation ofEssington's friend impressed him more than ever with the advantages ofknowing so remarkable a personage. A second bottle succeeded the first,and a third the second, the cordiality of the dinner growing all thewhile, till at last his lordship had laid aside the last traces of hisnational suspicion of even the most charming strangers.

  "I say, Essington," he said, "I had meant to tell you about a devilishdelicate dilemma I'm in. I want your advice."

  "You have it," interrupted his host. "Give her a five-pound note, seethat she burns your letters, and introduce her to another fellow."

  "But--er--that wasn't the thing----"

  "Tell him you'll pay in six months, and order another pair of trousers,"said Essington, briskly as ever.

  "But, I say, it wasn't that----"

  "My dear Tulliwuddle, I never give racing tips."

  "Hang it!"

  "What is the matter?"

  Tulliwuddle glanced at the Baron.

  "I don't know whether the Baron would be interested----"

  "Immensely, my goot Tollyvoddle! Supremely! hugely! I could beinterested to-night in a museum!"

  "The Baron's past life makes him a peculiarly catholic judge ofindiscretions," said Essington.

  Thus reassured, Tulliwuddle began--

  "You know I've an aunt who takes an interest in me--wants me to collaran heiress and that sort of thing. Well, she has more or less arranged amarriage for me."

  "Fill your glasses, gentlemen!" cried Essington.

  "Hoch, hoch!" roared the Baron.

  "But, I say, wait a minute! That's only the beginning. I don't know thegirl--and she doesn't know me."

  He said the last words in a peculiarly significant tone.

  "Do you wish me to introduce you?"

  "Oh, hang it! Be serious, Essington. The point is--will she marry me ifshe does know me?"

  "Himmel! Yes, certainly!" cried the Baron.

  "Who is she?" asked their host, more seriously.

  "Her father is Darius P. Maddison, the American Silver King."

  The other two could not withhold an exclamation.

  "He has only two children, a son and a daughter, and he wants to marryhis daughter to an English peer--or a Scotch, it's all the same. My auntknows 'em pretty well, and she has recommended me."

  "An excellent selection," commented his host.

  "But the trouble is, they want rather a high-class peer. Old Maddison isdeuced particular, and I believe the girl is even worse."

  "What are the qualifications desired?"

  "Oh, he's got to be ambitious, and a promising young man--and elevatedtastes--and all that kind of nonsense."

  "But you can be all zat if you try!" said the Baron eagerly. "Go toGermany and get trained. I did vork twelve hours a day for ten years tobe vat I am."

  "I'm different," replied the young peer gloomily. "Nobody ever trainedme. Old Tulliwuddle might have taken me up if he had liked, but he wasprejudiced against me. I can't become all those things now."

  "And yet you do want to marry the lady?"

  "My dear Essington, I can't afford to lose such a chance! One doesn'tget a Miss Maddison every day. She's a deuced handsome girl too, theysay."

  "By Gad, it's worth a trip across the Atlantic to try your luck," saidEssington. "Get 'em to guarantee your expenses and you'll at least learnto play poker and see Niagara for nothing."

  "They aren't in America. They've got a salmon river in Scotland, andthey are there now. It's not far from my place, Hechnahoul."

  "She's practically in your arms, then?"

  "Ach. Ze affair is easy!"

  "Pipe up the clan and abduct her!"

  "Approach her mit a kilt!"

  But even those optimistic exhortations left the peer still melancholy.

  "It sounds all very well," said he, "but my clansmen, as you call 'em,would expect such a devil of a lot from me too. Old Tulliwuddlespoiled them for any ordinary mortal. He went abou
t looking like anadvertisement for whisky, and called 'em all by their beastly Gaelicnames. I have never been in Scotland in my life, and I can't do thatsort of thing. I'd merely make a fool of myself. If I'd had to go toAmerica it wouldn't have been so bad."

  At this weak-kneed confession the Baron could hardly withhold anexclamation of contempt, but Essington, with more sympathy, inquired--

  "What do you propose to do, then?"

  His lordship emptied his glass.

  "I wish I had your brains and your way of carrying things off,Essington!" he said, with a sigh. "If you got a chance of showingyourself off to Miss Maddison she'd jump at you!"

  A gleam, inspired and humorous, leaped into Essington's eyes. The Baron,whose glance happened at the moment to fall on him, bounded gleefullyfrom his seat.

  "Hoch!" he cried, "it is mine old Bonker zat I see before me! Vat haveyou in your mind?"

  "Sit down, my dear Baron; that lady over there thinks you are preparingto attack her. Shall we smoke? Try these cigars."

  Throwing the Baron a shrewd glance to calm his somewhat alarmingexhilaration, their host turned with a graver air to his other guest.

  "Tulliwuddle," said he, "I should like to help you."

  "I wish to the deuce you could!"

  Essington bent over the table confidentially.

  "I have an idea."