CHAPTER IV.
The Baron and Mr Bunker discussed their dinner with the relish ofapproving connoisseurs. Mr Bunker commended the hock, and suggested asecond bottle; the Baron praised the _entrees_, and insisted on anotherhelping. The frequent laughter arising from their table excited generalremark throughout the room, and already the waiters were whispering to theother guests that this was a German nobleman of royal blood engaged in adiplomatic mission of importance, and his friend a ducal member of theEnglish Cabinet, at present, for reasons of state, incognito.
"Bonker!" exclaimed the Baron, "I am in zat frame of head I vant aromance, an adventure" (lowering his voice a little), "mit a beautifullady, Bonker."
"It must be a romance, Baron?"
"A novel, a story to tell to mine frients. In a strange city man expectsstrange zings."
"Well, I'll do my best for you, but I confess the provision of romanticadventures is a little outside the programme we've arranged."
"Ha, ha! Ve shall see, ve shall see, Bonker!"
They arrived at the Corinthian Theatre about the middle of the first act,for, as Mr Bunker explained, it is always well to produce a good firstimpression, and few more effective means can be devised than working one'sway to the middle of a line of stalls with the play already in progress.
Hardly were they seated when the Baron drove his elbow into his friend'sribs (draped for the night, it may be remarked, with one of the Baron'sspare dress-coats) and exclaimed in an excited whisper, "Next to you,Bonker! Ach, zehr huepsch!"
Even before this hint Mr Bunker had observed that the lady on the otherside of him was possessed of exceptional attractions. For a little time hestudied her out of the corners of his eyes. He noticed that the stall onthe farther side of her was empty, that she once or twice looked round asthough she expected somebody, and that she seemed not altogetherunconscious of her new neighbours. He further observed that her face wasof a type that is more usually engaged in attack than defence.
Then he whispered, "Would you like to know her?"
"Ach, yah!" replied the Baron, eagerly. "Bot--can you?"
Mr Bunker smiled confidently. A few minutes later he happened to let hisprogramme fall into her lap.
"I beg your pardon," he whispered, softly, and glanced into her eyes witha smile ready.
His usual discernment had not failed him. She smiled, and instantly heproduced his.
A little later her opera-glasses happened to slip from her hand, andthough they only slipped slowly, it was no doubt owing to his readypresence of mind that their fall was averted.
This time their fingers happened to touch, and they smiled without anapology.
He leant towards her, looking, however, at the play. They shared a laughover a joke that she might have been excused for not understanding;presently a criticism of some situation escaped him inadvertently, and shesmiled again; soon after she gave an exclamation and he answeredsympathetically, and at the end of the act the curtain came down on anacquaintance already begun. As the lights were turned up, and here andthere men began to go out, she again looked at the entrances in someapparent concern, either lest some one should not come in or lest some oneshould.
"He is late," said Mr Bunker, smiling.
She gave a very enticing look of surprise, and consented to smile backbefore she coyly looked away again.
"An erring husband, I presume."
She admitted that it was in fact a husband who had failed her.
"But," she added, "I'm afraid--I mean I expect he'll come in after the nextact. It's so tiresome of him to disappoint me like this."
Mr Bunker expressed the deepest sympathy with her unfortunate predicament.
"He has his ticket, of course?"
But it seemed that she had both the tickets with her, an arrangement whichhe immediately denounced as likely to lead to difficulties when herhusband arrived. He further, in the most obliging manner, suggested thathe should take the ticket for the other seat to the booking office andleave instructions for its being given to the gentleman on his arrival.The lady gave him a curious little glance that seemed to imply a mixtureof doubt as to his motives with confidence in his abilities, and then withmany thanks agreed to his suggestion. Mr Bunker took the ticket and roseat once.
"That I may be sure you are in good company while I am away," said he,"permit me to introduce my friend the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg."
And the Baron promptly took his vacant seat.
On his return Mr Bunker found his friend wreathed in smiles and engaged inthe most animated conversation with the lady, and before the last act wasover, he gathered from such scraps of conversation as reached his earsthat Rudolph von Blitzenberg had little to learn in one department of anobleman's duties.
"I wonder where my husband can be," the lady whispered.
"Ach, heed him not, fair lady," replied the Baron. "Am I not instead of ahosband?"
"I'm afraid you're a very naughty man, Baron."
"Ven I am viz you," the gallant Baron answered, "I forget myself all botyour charms."
These advances being made in the most dulcet tones of which the noblemanwas master, and accompanied by the most enamoured expression, it is notsurprising that the lady permitted herself to listen to them with perhapstoo ready an ear. What Mr Bunker's arrangement with the booking clerk hadbeen was never quite clear, but certainly the erring husband failed tomake his appearance at all, and at the last fall of the curtain she waseasily persuaded to let the Baron escort her home.
"I know I ought not, but if a husband deserts one so faithlessly, what canI do?" she said, with a very becoming little shrug of her shoulders and acaptivating lift of her eyebrows.
"Ah, vat indeed? He desairves not so fair a consort."
"But won't it be troubling you?"
"Trouble? Pleasure and captivation!"
"Excuse me, Baron," said the voice of Mr Bunker at his elbow; "if you willwait here at the door I shall send up a cab."
"Goot!" cried the Baron, "a zouzand zanks!"
"I myself," added Mr Bunker, with a profound bow to the lady, "shall saygood night now. The best of luck, Baron!"
In a few minutes a hansom drove up, and the Baron, springing in beside hischarge, told the man to drive to 602 Eaton Square.
"Not too qvickly!" he added, in a stage aside.
They reached Trafalgar Square, matters inside going harmoniously as amarriage bell,--almost, in fact, too much suggesting that simile.
"Why are we going down Whitehall?" the lady exclaimed, suddenly.
"I know not," replied the Baron, placidly.
"Ask him where he is going!" she said.
The Baron, as in duty bound, asked, and the reassuring reply, "All right,sir," came back through the hole in the roof.
"I seem to know that man's voice," the lady said. "He must have driven mebefore."
"To me all ze English speak ze same," replied the Baron. "All bot you, myfairest, viz your sound like a--vat you call?--fiddle, is it?"
Though his charmer had serious misgivings regarding their cabman'stopographical knowledge, the Baron's company proved so absorbing that itwas not till they were being rapidly driven over Vauxhall Bridge that sheat last took alarm. At first the Baron strove to soothe her by the mostapproved Teutonic blandishments, but in time he too began to feelconcerned, and in a voice like thunder he repeatedly called upon thedriver to stop. No reply was vouchsafed, and the pace merely grew the morereckless.
"Can't you catch the reins?" cried the lady, who had got into a terriblefright.
The Baron twice essayed the feat, but each time a heavy blow over theknuckles from the butt-end of the whip forced him to desist. The ladyburst into tears. The Baron swore in five languages alternately, and stillthe cab pursued its headlong career through deserted midnight streets,past infrequent policemen and stray belated revellers, on into an unknownwilderness of brick.
"Oh, don't let him murder me!" sobbed the lady.
"H
af cheer, fairest; he shall not vile I am viz you! Gott in himmel, zerascal! Parbleu und blood! Goddam! Vait till I catch him, hell andblitzen! Haf courage, dear!"
"Oh dear, oh dear!" wailed the lady. "I shall _never_ do it again!"
They must have covered miles, and still the speed never abated, whensuddenly, as they were rounding a sharp corner, the horse slipped on thefrost-bound road, and in the twinkling of an eye the Baron and the ladywere sitting on opposite sides of their fallen steed, and the cabman wasrubbing his head some yards in front.
"Teufel!" exclaimed the Baron, rising carefully to his feet. "Ach, minedearest vun, art thou hurt?"
The lady was silent for a moment, as though trying to decide, and then sheburst into hysterical laughter.
"Ach, zo," said the Baron, much relieved, "zen vill I see ze cabman."
That individual was still rubbing his head with a rueful air, and theBaron was about to pour forth all his bottled-up indignation, when at thesight of the driver's face he started back in blank astonishment.
"Bonker!"
"It is I indeed, my dear Baron," replied that gentleman, politely. "I mustask a thousand pardons for causing you this trifling inconvenience. As toyour friend, I don't know how I am to make my peace with her."
"Bot--bot vat means zis?" gasped the Baron.
"I was merely endeavouring to provide the spice of romance you required,besides giving you the opportunity of making the lady's betteracquaintance. Can I do anything more for you, Baron? And you, my dearlady, can I assist you in any way?"
Both, speaking at once and with some heat, gave a decidedly affirmativeanswer.
"Where are we?" asked the lady, who hovered between fright andindignation.
Mr Bunker shrugged his shoulders.
"It would be rash to hazard an opinion," he replied.
"Well!" cried the lady, her indignation quite overcoming her fright. "Doyou mean to say you've brought us here against our wills and probably gotme into _dreadful_ trouble, and you don't even know where we are?"
Mr Bunker looked up at the heavens with a studious air.
"One _ought_ to be able to tell something of our whereabouts from one ofthose stars," he replied; "but, to tell the truth, I don't quite knowwhich. In short, madame, it is not from want of goodwill, but merelythrough ignorance, that I cannot direct you."
The lady turned impatiently to the Baron.
"_You've_ helped to get me into this mess," she said, tartly. "What do youpropose to do?"
"My fairest----"
"Don't!" she interrupted, stamping her foot on the frosty road, and theninconsequently burst into tears. The Baron and Mr Bunker looked at oneanother.
"It is a fine night for a walk, and the cab, I'm afraid, is smashed beyondhope of redemption. Give the lady your arm, Baron; we must eventuallyarrive somewhere."
There was really nothing else for it, so leaving the horse and cab to berecovered by the first policeman who chanced to pass, they set out onfoot. At last, after half an hour's ramble through the solitudes of SouthLondon, a belated cab was hailed and all three got inside. Once on her wayhome, the lady's indignation again gave way to fright.
"What _am_ I to do? What _am_ I to do?" she wailed. "Oh, whatever will myhusband say?"
In his most confident and irresistible manner Mr Bunker told her he wouldmake matters all right for her at whatever cost to himself; and soinfectious was his assurance, that, when at last they reached EatonSquare, she allowed him to come up to the door of number 602. The Baronprudently remained in the cab, for, as he explained, "My English, he isunsafe."
After a prolonged knocking and ringing the door at length opened, and anirascible-looking, middle-aged gentleman appeared, arrayed in adressing-gown.
"Louisa!" he cried. "What the dev--where on earth have you been? The policeare looking for you all over London. And may I venture to ask who this iswith you?"
Mr Bunker bowed slightly and raised his hat.
"My dear sir," he said, "we found this lady in a lamentable state ofintoxication in the Tottenham Court Road, and as I understand you have akind of reversionary interest in her, we have brought her here. As foryou, sir, your appearance is so unprepossessing that I am unable to remainany longer. Good night," and raising his hat again he entered the cab anddrove off, assuring the Baron that matters were satisfactorily arranged.
"So you have had your adventure, Baron," he added, with a smile.
For a minute or two the Baron was silent. Then he broke into a cheerfulguffaw, "Ha, ha, ha! You are a fonny devil, Bonker! Ach, bot it vaspleasant vile it lasted!"
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