CHAPTER XXV
The Count next morning consumed a solitary breakfast, his noble friendhaving risen some hours previously and gone for an early walk upon thehill. But he was far from feeling any trace of boredom, since an openletter beside his plate appeared to provide him with an ample fund ofpleasant and entertaining reflections.
"I have not withered yet," he said to himself. "Here is proof positivethat some blossom, some aroma remains!"
The precise terms of this encouraging epistle were these:
"THE LASH, near NETHERBRIG.
"Tuesday night.
"DEAR COUNT BUNKER,--Forgive what must seem to you INCREDIBLE boldness(!), and do not think worse of me than I deserve. It seems such a pitythat you should be so near and yet that I should lose this chance ofgratifying my great desire. If you knew how I prized the name of Bunkeryou would understand; but no doubt I am only one among many, and you dounderstand better than I can explain.
"My father is away from home, and the WORLD dictates prudence; butI know your views on conventionality are those I too have learned toshare, so will you come and see me before you leave Scotland?
"With kindest regards and in great haste because I want you to get thisto-morrow morning. Believe me, yours very sincerely,
"JULIA WALLINGFORD."
"P.S.--If it would upset your arrangements to come only for the day,Miss Minchell agrees with me that we could easily put you up.--J. W."
"By Jingo!" mused the Count, "that's what I call a sporting offer. Herfather away from home, and Count Bunker understanding better than shecan explain! Gad, it's my duty to go!"
But besides the engaging cordiality of Miss Wallingford's invitation,there was something about the letter that puzzled almost as much as itcheered him.
"She prizes the name of Bunker, does she? Never struck me it was veryornamental; and in any case the compliment seems a trifle stretched.But, hang it! this is looking a gift-horse in the mouth. Such ardordeserves to be embraced, not dissected."
He swiftly debated how best to gratify the lady. Last night it had beenhis own counsel, and likewise the Baron's desire, to leave by the nightmail that very evening, with their laurels still unfaded and blessingsheaped upon their heads. Why not make his next stage The Lash?
"Hang it, the Baron has had such a good innings that he can scarcelygrudge me a short knock," he said to himself. "He can wait for me atPerth or somewhere."
And, ringing the bell, he wrote and promptly despatched this brieftelegram:
"Delighted. Shall spend to-night in passing. Bunker."
Hardly was this point settled when the footman re-entered to informhim that Mr. Maddison's motor car was at the door waiting to convey himwithout delay to Lincoln Lodge. Accompanying this announcement came theSilver King's card bearing the words, "Please come and see me at once."
The Count stroked his chin, and lit a cigarette.
"There is something fresh in the wind," thought he.
In the course of his forty-miles-an-hour rush through the odors of pinewoods, he had time to come to a pretty correct conclusion regardingthe business before him, and was thus enabled to adopt the mien mostsuitable to the contingency when he found himself ushered into thepresence of the millionaire and his son. The set look upon their faces,the ceremonious manner of their greeting, and the low buzzing of thephonograph, audible above the tinkle of a musical box ingeniouslyintended to drown it, confirmed his guess even before a word had passed.
"Be seated, Count," said the Silver King; and the Count sat.
"Now, sir," he continued, "I have sent for you, owing, sir, to the highopinion I have formed of your intelligence and business capabilities."
The Count bowed profoundly.
"Yes, sir, I believe, and my son believes, you to be a white man, eventhough you are a Count."
"That is so," said Ri.
"Now, sir, you must be aware--in fact, you ARE aware--of the matrimonialproject once entertained between my daughter and Lord Tulliwuddle."
"Once!" exclaimed the Count in protest.
"ONCE!" echoed Ri in his deepest voice.
"Hish, Ri! Let your poppa do the talking this time," said themillionaire sternly, though with an indulgent eye.
"But--er--ONCE?" repeated the Count, as if bewildered by the past tenseimplied; though to himself he murmured--"I knew it!"
"When I gave my sanction to Lord Tulliwuddle's proposition, I didso under the impression that I was doing a deal with a man, sir, ofintegrity and honor. But what do I find?"
"Yes, what?" thundered Ri.
"I find, sir, that his darned my-lordship--and be damned to histitles----"
"Mr. Maddison!" expostulated the Count gently.
"I find, Count, I find that Lord Tulliwuddle, under pretext of payingmy Eleanor a compliment, has provided an entertainment--a musical andathletic entertainment--for another woman!"
The Count sprang to his feet.
"Impossible!" he cried.
"It is true!"
"Name her!"
"She answers, sir, to the plebeian cognomen of Gallosh."
"A nobody!" sneered Ri.
"In trade!" added his father scornfully.
Had the occasion been more propitious, the Count could scarcely haverefrained from commenting upon this remarkably republican criticism;but, as it was, he deemed it more advisable to hunt with the hounds.
"That canaille!" he shouted. "Ha, ha! Lord Tulliwuddle would never sofar demean himself!"
"I have it from old Gallosh himself," declared Mr. Maddison.
"And that girl Gallosh told Eleanor the same," added Ri.
"Pooh!" cried the Count. "A mere invention."
"You are certain, sir, that Lord Tulliwuddle gave them no groundswhatever for supposing such a thing?"
"I pledge my reputation as Count of the Austrian Empire, that ifmy friend be indeed a Tulliwuddle he is faithful to your charmingdaughter!"
Father and son looked at him shrewdly.
"Being a Tulliwuddle, or any other sort of pampered aristocrat, doesn'taltogether guarantee faithfulness," observed the Silver King.
"If he has deceived you, he shall answer to ME!" declared the Count."And between ourselves, as nature's gentleman to nature's gentleman, youmay assure Miss Maddison that there is not the remotest likelihood ofthis scheming Miss Gallosh ever becoming my friend's bride!"
The two Dariuses were sensibly affected by this assurance.
"As nature's gentleman to nature's gentleman!" repeated the elder withunction, wringing his hand.
His son displayed an equal enthusiasm, and the Count departed with anenhanced reputation and the lingering fragrance of a cocktail upon histongue.
"Now I think we are in comparatively smooth water," he said to himselfas he whizzed back to the castle.
At the door he was received by the butler.
"Mr. Gallosh is waiting for you in the library, my lord," said he,adding confidentially (since the Count had endeared himself to all),"He's terrible impatient for to see your lordship."
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