Count Bunker Part 40
"Twould make a fellow Turn green and yellow!
Finally, as a t.i.t-bit, he contributed--
"When hubby s gone to Brighton, And I ve sent the cook to bed, Oh who's that a-knocking on the window!"
At the conclusion of this concert he knew not whether to feel more relieved or chagrined to observe that his fair hostess had her eyes fixed upon the clock. Thanking him with a slightly embarra.s.sed air, she threw a pointed glance at Miss Minch.e.l.l, and the two ladies rose.
"I am afraid you will think we keep very early hours," she began.
"It is one of the best rules in my uncle's philosophy," he interposed.
Yet though glad enough to have come so triumphantly to the end of his ordeal, he could not bring himself to let his charming disciple leave him in a wounded or even disappointed mood. As soon as Miss Minch.e.l.l had pa.s.sed through the door he quietly laid his hand upon Julia's arm, and with a gesture beckoned her back into the room.
"Pardon my seeming levity, Miss Wallingford," he said in a grave and gentle voice, "but you know not what emotions I had to contend with!
I thank you for your charming sympathy, and I beg you to accept in my uncle's name that salute by which his followers distinguish the faithful."
And he thereupon kissed the blushing girl with a heartiness that restored her confidence in him completely.
"Well," he said to himself as he retired with his candle, "I've managed to get a fair penn'orth out of it after all."
CHAPTER x.x.xI
In spite of the Spartan transformation which Sir Justin's bedroom had undergone, our adventurer enjoyed an excellent night's rest. So fast asleep was he at the hour of eight next morning that it took him a few seconds to awake to the full possession of his faculties, even when disturbed by a loud exclamation at his bedside. He then became aware of the presence of an entire stranger in his room--a tall and elderly man, with a long nose and a grizzled beard. This intruder had apparently just drawn up the blind, and was now looking about him with an expression of the greatest concern.
"Mackenzie!" he cried, in the voice of one accustomed to be heard with submission, "What have you been doing to my room?"
The butler, too confused for coherent speech, was in the act of bringing in a small portmanteau.
"I--I mentioned, Sir Justin, your room was hardly ready for ye, sir.
Perhaps, sir, if ye'd come into the pink room----"
"What the deuce, there's hardly a stick of furniture left! And whose clothes are these?"
"Mine," answered the Count suavely.
The stranger started violently, and turned upon the bed an eye at first alarmed, then rapidly becoming lit with indignation.
"Who--who is this?" he shouted.
"That, sir--that----" stammered Mackenzie.
"Is Count Bunker," said the Count, who remained entirely courteous in spite of the inconvenience of this intrusion. "Have I the pleasure of addressing Sir Justin Wallingford?"
"You have, sir."
"In that case, Mackenzie will be able to give you a satisfactory account of my presence; and in half an hour or so I shall have the pleasure of joining you downstairs."
The Count, with a polite smile, turned over in bed, as though to indicate that the interview was now at an end. But his visitor apparently had other views.
"I should be obliged by some explanation from yourself of your entry into my house," said he, steadily keeping his eye upon the Count.
"Now how the deuce shall I get out of this hole without letting Julia into another?" wondered Bunker; but before he could speak, Mackenzie had blurted out--
"Miss Wallingford, sir--the gentleman is a friend of hers, sir."
"What!" thundered Sir Justin.
"I a.s.sure you that Miss Wallingford was actuated by the highest motives in honoring me with an invitation to The Lash," said Bunker earnestly.
He had already dismissed an ingenious account of himself as a belated wanderer, detained by stress of weather, as certain to be contradicted by Julia herself, and decided instead on risking all upon his supposed uncle's saintly reputation.
"How came she to invite you, sir?" demanded Sir Justin.
"As my uncle's nephew, merely."
Sir Justin stared at him in silence, while he brought the full force of his capacious mind to bear upon the situation.
"Your name, you say, is Bunker?" he observed at length.
"Count Bunker," corrected that n.o.bleman.
"Ah! Doubtless, then, you are the same gentleman who has been residing with Lord Tulliwuddle?"
"I am unaware of a duplicate."
"And the uncle you allude to----?"
By a wave of his hand the Count referred him to the portrait upon the wall. Sir Justin now stared at it.
"Bunker--Count Bunker," he repeated in a musing tone, and then turned to the present holder of that dignity with a look in his eye which the adventurer disliked exceedingly.
"I will confer with you later," he observed. "Mackenzie, remove my portmanteau."
In a voice inaudible to the Count he gave another order, which was followed by Mackenzie also removing the Count's clothes from their chair.
"I say, Mackenzie!" expostulated Bunker, now beginning to feel seriously uneasy; but heedless of his protest the butler hastened with them from the room.
Then, with a grim smile and a surprising alacrity of movement, Sir Justin changed the key into the outside of the lock, pa.s.sed through the door, and shut and locked it behind him.
"The devil!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Count Bunker.
Here was a pretty predicament! And the most ominous feature about it appeared to him to be the deliberation with which his captor had acted.
It seemed that he had got himself into a worse sc.r.a.pe than he could estimate.
He wasted no time in examining his prison with an eye to the possibility of an escape, but it became very quickly evident that he was securely trapped. From the windows he could not see even a water-pipe within hail, and the door was unburstably ponderous. Besides, a gentleman attired either in pajamas or evening dress will naturally shrink from flight across country at nine o'clock in the morning. It seemed to the Count that he was as well in bed as anywhere else, and upon this opinion he acted.