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CHAPTER IX.
Mr Bunker arrived at the Hotel Mayonaise in what, from his appearance, was an unusually reflective state of mind for him. The other visitors, many of whom had begun to regard him and his n.o.ble friend with great interest, saw him pa.s.s through the crowd in the hall and about the lifts with a thoughtful air. He went straight to the Baron's room. Outside the door he paused for an instant to set his face in a cheerful smile, and then burst gaily in upon his friend.
"Well, my dear Baron!" he cried, "what luck in the Park?"
The Baron was pulling his moustache over an English novel. He laid down his book and frowned at Mr Bunker.
"I do not onderstand your English vays," he replied.
Mr Bunker perceived that something was very much amiss, nor was he without a suspicion of the cause. He laughed, however, and asked, "What's the matter, old man?"
"I vent to ze Park," said the Baron, with a solemn deliberation that evidently came hardly to him. "I entered ze Park. I vas dressed, as you know, viz taste and appropriety. I vas sober, as you know. I valked under ze trees, and I looked agreeably at ze people. G.o.ddam!"
"My dear Baron!" expostulated Mr Bunker.
The Baron resumed his intense composure with a great effort.
"Not long vas ven I see ze Lady Hilton drive past mit ze ozzer Lady Hilton and vun old lady. I raise my hat-no bow from zem. 'Pairhaps,' I zink, 'zey see me not.' Zey stop by ze side to speak viz a gentleman. I gomed up and again I raise my hat and I say, 'How do you do, Lady Hilton? I hope you are regovered from ze dance.' Zat was gorrect, vas it not?"
"Perfectly," replied Mr Bunker, with great gravity.
"Zen vy did ze Lady Hilton schream and ze ozzer Lady Hilton cry, 'Ach, zat German man!' And vy did ze old lady schream to ze gentleman, 'Send him avay! How dare you? Insolence!' and suchlike vords?"
"What remarkable conduct, my dear Baron!" said Mr Bunker.
"Remargable!" roared the justly incensed Baron. "Is it not more zan _remargable?_ Donner und blitzen! Mon Dieu! Blood! I know not ze English vord so bad enoff for soch conduct."
"It must have been a joke," his friend suggested, soothingly.
"Vun dashed bad joke, zen! Ze gentleman said to me, 'Get out of zis, you rasgal!' 'Vat mean you, sare?' say I. 'You know quite vell,' said he.
'Glear out!' So I gave him my card and tell him I would be glad to see his frient zat he should send, for zat I vas not used to be called zo. Zen I raise my hat to ze Lady Hilton and say, 'Adieu, madame, I know now ze English lady,' and I valk on. Himmel!"
"What a very extraordinary affair, Baron!"
The Baron grunted with inarticulate indignation and nearly pulled his moustache out by the roots. Abruptly he broke out again, "English ladies?
I do not believe zey are ladies! Never haf I been treated zo! Vat do you mean, Bonker, by taking me among soch peoples?"
"_I_, my dear Baron? It was not I who introduced you to the Hiltons. I never saw them before."
The difficulty of attaching any blame to his friend seemed to have anything but a soothing effect on the Baron. You could almost fancy that you heard his tail lash the floor.
"Zat vas not all," he continued, after a short struggle with his wrath. "I valked on, and soon I see two of ze frients I made last night at supper."
"Which two?"
"Ze yong man zat spoke to you ven you rise from ze table, and vun of ze ladies. Again I raise my hat and say, 'How do you do? I hope zat you are regovered from ze dance.' Zat is gorrect, you say?"
"Under most circ.u.mstances."
"Ze man stared at me, and ze voman-I vill not say lady-says to him zo zat I can hear, 'Zat awful German!' Ze man says, 'Zo it is,' and laughed. 'I haf ze pleasure of meeting you last night at ze Lady Tollyvoddle,' I said.
'I remember,' he said; 'but I haf no vish to meet you again.' I take out my card to gif him, but he only said, 'Go avay, or I vill call ze police!'
'Ze police! To me, Baron von Blitzenberg! Teufel!' I replied."
"And that was all, Baron?" asked Mr Bunker, in what seemed rather like a tone of relief.
"No; suddenly he did turn back and said, 'By ze vay, who vas zat viz you last night?' To vich I replied, 'If you address me again, my man, I vill call ze police. Go avay!' "
"Bravo, Baron! Ha, ha, ha! Excellent!" laughed Mr Bunker.
This applause served to reinstate the Baron a little in his own good opinion. He laughed too, though rather noisily than heartily, and suddenly became grave again.
"Vat means zis, Bonker? Vat haf I done? Vy should zey treat me zo?"
"Well, you see, my dear Baron," his friend explained, "I ought to have warned you that it is not usual in England to address ladies you have met at a dance without some direct invitation on their part. At the same time, it is evident that the Hiltons and the other man, who of course must be connected with the Foreign Office, are aware of some sudden strain in the diplomatic relations between England and Germany, which as yet is unknown to the public. Your ancient name and your high rank have naturally led them to conclude that you are an agent of the German Government, and an international significance was of course attached to your presence in the Park. I certainly think they took a most outrageous advantage of a trifling detail of etiquette to repulse you; but then you must remember, Baron, that their families might have been seriously compromised with the Government if they had been seen with so prominent a member of the German aristocracy in the middle of Hyde Park."
"Zo?" said the Baron, thoughtfully. "I begin to onderstand. My name, as you say, is cairtainly distinguished. Bot zen should I remain in London?"
"Just what I was wondering, Baron. What do you say to a trip down to St Egbert's-on-Sea? It's a very select watering-place, and we might spend a week or two there very pleasantly."
"Egxellent!" said the Baron; "ven shall we start?"
"To-morrow morning."
"Goot! zo let it be. I am tired of London and of ze English ladies'
manners. Police to ze Baron von Blitzenberg! Ve shall go to St Egbert's, Bonker!"
PART III.
CHAPTER I.
The Baron and Mr Bunker walked arm-in-arm along the esplanade at St Egbert's-on-Sea.
"Aha!" said the Baron, "zis is more fresh zan London!"
"Yes," replied his friend; "we are now in the presence of that stimulating element which provides patriotic Britons with music-hall songs, and dyspeptic Britons with an appet.i.te."
A stirring breeze swept down the long white esplanade, threatening hats and troubling skirts; the pale-green south-coast sea rumbled up the s.h.i.+ngle; the day was bright and pleasant for the time of year, and drove the Baron's mischances from his head; altogether it seemed to Mr Bunker that the omens were good. They were both dressed in the smartest of tweed suits, and walked jauntily, like men who knew their own value. Every now and then, as they pa.s.sed a pretty face, the Baron would say, "Aha, Bonker!
zat is not so bad, eh?"