The Lunatic at Large

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The Lunatic at Large Page 14

by J. Storer Clouston


  CHAPTER VI.

  The Baron expressed no further wish for instruction, but, instead, hebegan to show a desire for society.

  "Doesn't one fool suffice?" his friend asked.

  "Ach, yes, my vise fool; ha, ha, ha! Bot sometimes I haf ze craving forpeoples, museec, dancing--in vun vord, society, Bonker!"

  "But this is not the season, Baron. You wouldn't mix with any but the bestsociety, would you?"

  "Zere are some nobles in town. In my paper I see Lord zis, Duke of zat, inLondon. Pairhaps my introdogtions might be here now."

  This suggestion seemed to strike Mr Bunker unfavourably.

  "My company is beginning to pall, is it, Baron?"

  "Ach, no, dear Bonker! I vould merely go out jost vunce or tvice. Haf youno friends now in town?"

  An idea seemed to seize Mr Bunker.

  "Let me see the paper," he said.

  After perusing it carefully for a little, he at last exclaimed in a toneof pleased discovery, "Hullo! I see that Lady Tulliwuddle is giving areception and dance to-night. Most of the smart people in town just noware sure to be there. Would you care to go, Baron?"

  "Ach, surely," said the Baron, eagerly. "Bot haf you been invited,Bonker?"

  "Oh, I used to have a standing invitation to Lady Tulliwuddle's dances,and I'm certain she would be glad to see me again."

  "Can you take me?"

  "Of course, my dear Baron, she will be honoured."

  "Goot!" cried the Baron. "Ve shall go."

  Mr Bunker explained that it was the proper thing to arrive very late, andso it was not until after twelve o'clock that they left the HotelMayonaise for the regions of Belgravia. The Baron, primed with a bottle ofchampagne, and arrayed in a costume which Mr Bunker had assured him wasthe very latest extreme of fashion, and which included a scarlet wateredsilk waistcoat, a pair of white silk socks, and a lavender tie, was in acondition of cheerfulness verging closely on hilarity. Mr Bunker, that, ashe said, he might better serve as a foil to his friend's splendour, wentmore inconspicuously dressed, but was likewise well charged withchampagne. He too was in his happiest vein, and the vision of the Baron'sfinery appeared to afford him peculiar gratification.

  Their hansom stopped in front of a large and gaily lit-up mansion, with anawning leading to the door, and a cluster of carriages and footmen by thekerbstone. They entered, and having divested themselves of their coats, MrBunker proposed that they should immediately seek the supper-room.

  "Bot should I not be first introduced to mine hostess?" asked the Baron.

  "My dear Baron! a formal reception of the guests is entirely foreign toEnglish etiquette."

  "Zo? I did not know zat."

  The supper-room was crowded, and having secured a table with somedifficulty, Mr Bunker entered immediately into conversation with asolitary young gentleman who was consuming a plate of oysters. Before theyhad exchanged six sentences the young man had entirely succumbed to MrBunker's address, aided possibly by the young man's supper.

  "Permit me to introduce my friend the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg, anobleman strange as yet to England, but renowned throughout his nativeland alike for his talents and his lofty position," said Mr Bunker.

  "Ach, my good friend," exclaimed the Baron, grasping the young man's hand,"das ist Bonker's vat you call nonsense; bot I am delighted, zehrdelighted, to meet you, and if you gom to Bavaria you most shoot vid me!Bravo! Ha!"

  From which it may be gathered that the Baron was in a genial humour.

  "Who is that girl?" asked Mr Bunker, pointing to an extremely prettydamsel just leaving the room.

  "Oh, that's my cousin, Lady Muriel Hilton. She's thought rather pretty, Ibelieve," answered the young man.

  "Do you mind introducing me?"

  "Certainly," said their new friend. "Come along."

  As they were passing through the room a little incident occurred that, ifthe Baron's perceptions had been keener, might have given him cause forsome speculation. Two men standing by the door looked hard at Mr Bunker,and then at each other, and as the Baron passed them he heard one say, "Itlooks devilish like him."

  "He has shaved, then," said the other.

  "Evidently," replied the first speaker; "but I thought he was unlikely toappear in any society for some time."

  They both laughed, and the Baron heard no more.

  When they reached the ballroom the band was striking up a polka, andpresently Mr Bunker, with his accustomed grace, was tearing round the roomwith Lady Muriel, while the Baron--the delight of all eyes in his redwaistcoat--led out her sister. In a very short time the other dancers foundthe Baron and his friend's onslaught so vigorous that prudence compelledthem to take shelter along the wall, and from a safe distance admire theevolutions of these two mysterious guests.

  Mr Bunker was enlivening the monotony of the polka by the judiciousintroduction of hornpipe steps, while the Baron, his coat-tails high abovehis head, shouted and stamped in his wild career.

  "Do stop for a minute, Baron," gasped his fair partner.

  "Himmel, nein!" roared the Baron. "I haf gom here for to dance! Ha,Bonker, ha!"

  At last Lady Muriel had to stop through sheer exhaustion, but Mr Bunker,merely letting her go, pursued his solitary way, double-shuffling andkicking unimpeded.

  The Baron stopped, breathless, to admire him. Round and round he went, theonly figure in the middle of the room, his arms akimbo, his feetrat-tatting and kicking to the music, while high above the band resoundedhis friend's shouts of "Bravo, Bonker! Wunderschoen! Gott in himmel,higher, higher!" till at length, missing the wall in an attempt to findsupport, the Baron dropped with a thud into a sitting posture andcontinued his demonstrations from the floor.

  Meanwhile their alarmed hostess was holding a hasty consultation with herhusband, and when the music at last stopped and Mr Bunker was advancingwith his most courteous air towards his late partner, Lord Tulliwuddlestepped up to him and touched his arm.

  "May I speak to you, sir?" he said.

  "Certainly," replied Mr Bunker. "I shall be honoured. Excuse me for onemoment, Lady Muriel."

  "At whose invitation have you come here to-night?" demanded his host,sternly.

  "I have the pleasure of addressing Lord Tulliwuddle, have I not?"

  "You have, sir."

  Mr Bunker bent towards him and whispered something in his ear.

  "From Scotland Yard?" exclaimed his lordship.

  "Hush!" said Mr Bunker, glancing cautiously round the room, and then headded, with an air of impressive gravity, "You have a bathroom on thethird floor, I believe?"

  "I have," replied his host in great surprise.

  "Has it a bell?"

  "No, I believe not."

  "Ah, I thought so. If you will favour me by coming up-stairs for a minute,my Lord, you will avoid a serious private scandal. Say nothing about it atpresent to any one."

  In blank astonishment and some alarm Lord Tulliwuddle went up with him tothe third floor, where the house was still and the sounds of revelryreached faintly.

  "What does this mean, sir?" he asked.

  "If I am right in my conjectures you will need no explanation from me, myLord."

  His lordship opened a door, and turning on an electric light, revealed asmall and ordinary-looking bathroom.

  "Ha, no bell--excellent!" said Mr Bunker.

  "What are you doing with the key?" exclaimed his host.

  "Good night, my Lord. I shall tell them to send up breakfast at nine,"said Mr Bunker, and stepping quickly out, he shut and locked the door.

  A minute later he was back in the ballroom looking anxiously for theBaron, but that nobleman was nowhere to be seen.

  "The devil!" he said to himself. "Can they have tackled him too?"

  But as he ran downstairs a gust of cheerful laughter set his mind at ease.

  "Ha, ha, ha! Vere is old Bonker? He also vill shoot vid me!"

  "Here I am, my dear Baron," he exclaimed gaily, as he tracked the vo
iceinto the supper-room.

  "Ach, mine dear Bonker!" cried the Baron, folding him in his muscularembrace, "I haf here met friends, ve are merry! Ve drink to Bavaria, toEngland, to everyzing!"

  The "friends" consisted of two highly amused young men and twohalf-scandalised, half-hysterical ladies, into the midst of whosesupper-table the Baron had projected himself with infectious hilarity.They all looked up with great curiosity at Mr Bunker, but that gentlemanwas not in the least put about. He bowed politely to the table generally,and took his friend by the arm.

  "It is time we were going, Baron, I'm afraid," he said.

  "Vat for? Ah, not yet, Bonker, not yet. I am enjoying myself down to zefloor. I most dance again, Bonker, jost vunce more," pleaded the Baron.

  "My dear Baron, the noblemen of highest rank must always leave first, andpeople are talking of going now. Come along, old man."

  "Ha, is zat so?" said the Baron. "Zen vill I go. Good night!" he cried,waving his hand to the room generally. "Ven you gom to Bavaria you mostall shoot vid me. Bravo, my goot Bonker! Ha! ha!"

  As they turned away from the table, one of the young men, who had beenlooking very hard at Mr Bunker, rose and touched his sleeve.

  "I say, aren't you----?" he began.

  "Possibly I am," interrupted Mr Bunker, "only I haven't the slightestrecollection of the fact."

  An astonished lady was indicated by Mr Bunker as the hostess, and to herthe Baron bade an affectionate adieu. He handed a sovereign to thefootman, embraced the butler, and as they sped eastwards in their hansom,a rousing chorus from the two friends awoke the echoes of Piccadilly.

  "Bravo, Bonker! Himmel, I haf enjoyed myself!" sighed the exhausted Baron.

 

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