Count Bunker Part 8

"Ja--zat is, yes, I am," replied the Baron.

CHAPTER VIII

From the platform down to the pier was only some fifty yards, and before them the travellers perceived an exceedingly smart steam-launch, and a stout middle-aged gentleman, in a blue serge suit and yachting cap, advancing from it to greet them. They had only time to observe that he had a sanguine complexion, iron-gray whiskers, and a wide-open eye, before he raised the cap and, in a decidedly North British accent, thus addressed them--

"My lord--ahem!--your lordship, I should say--I presume I've the pleasure of seeing Lord Tulliwuddle?"

The Count gently pushed his more distinguished friend in front. With an embarra.s.sment equal to their host's, his lordship bowed and gave his hand.

"I am ze Tollyvoddle--vary pleased--Mistair Gosh, I soppose?"

"Gallosh, my lord. Very honored to welcome you."

In the round eyes of Mr. Gallosh, Count Bunker perceived an unmistakable stare of astonishment at the sound of his lordship's accented voice.

The Baron, on his part, was evidently still suffering from his attack of stage fright; but again the Count's gifts smoothed the creases from the situation.

"You have not introduced me to our host, Tulliwuddle," he said, with a gay, infectious confidence.

"Ah, so! Zis is my friend Count Bunker--gom all ze vay from Austria,"

responded the Baron, with no glimmer of his customary aplomb.

Making a mental resolution to warn his ally never to say one word more about his fict.i.tious past than was wrung by cross-examination, the distinguished-looking Austrian shook his host's hand warmly.

"From Austria via London," he explained in his pleasantest manner. "I object altogether to be considered a foreigner, Mr. Gallosh; and, in fact, I often tell Tulliwuddle that people will think me more English than himself. The German fashions so much in vogue at Court are transforming the very speech of your n.o.bility. Don't you sometimes notice it?"

Thus directly appealed to, Mr. Gallosh became manifestly perplexed.

"Yes--yes, you're right in a way," he p.r.o.nounced cautiously. "I suppose they do that. But will ye not take a seat? This is my launch. Hi!

Robert, give his lordship a hand on board!"

Two mariners and a second tall footman a.s.sisted the guests to embark, and presently they were cutting the waters of the loch at a merry pace.

In the prow, like youth, the Baron insisted upon sitting with folded arms and a gloomy aspect; and as his nerve was so patently disturbed, the Count decidedly approved of an arrangement which left his host and himself alone together in the stern. In his present state of mind the Baron was capable of any indiscretion were he compelled to talk; while, silent and brooding in isolated majesty, he looked to perfection the part of returning exile. So, evidently, thought Mr. Gallosh.

"His lordship is looking verra well," he confided to the Count in a respectfully lowered voice.

"The improvement has been remarkable ever since his foot touched his native heath."

"You don't say so," said Mr. Gallosh, with even greater interest. "Was he delicate before?"

"A London life, Mr. Gallosh."

"True--true, he'll have been busy seeing his friends; it'll have been verra wearing."

"The anxiety, the business of being invested, and so on, has upset him a trifle. You must put down any little--well, peculiarity to that, Mr.

Gallosh."

"I understand--aye, umh'm, quite so. He'll like to be left to himself, perhaps?"

"That depends on his condition," said the Count diplomatically.

"It's a great responsibility for a young man; yon's a big property to look after," observed Mr. Gallosh in a moment.

"You have touched the spot!" said the Count warmly. "That is, in fact, the chief cause of Tulliwuddle's curious moodiness ever since he succeeded to the t.i.tle. He feels his responsibilities a little too acutely."

Again Mr. Gallosh ruminated, while his guest from the corner of his eye surveyed him shrewdly.

"My forecast was wonderfully accurate," he said to himself.

The silence was first broken by Mr. Gallosh. As if thinking aloud, he remarked--

"I was awful surprised to hear him speak! It's the Court fashion, you say?"

"Partly that; partly a prolonged residence on the Continent in his youth. He acquired his accent then; he has retained it for fashion's sake," explained the Count, who thought it as well to bolster up the weakest part of his case a little more securely.

With this prudent purpose, he added, with a flattering air of taking his host into his aristocratic confidence--

"You will perhaps be good enough to explain this to the friends and dependants Lord Tulliwuddle is about to meet? A breath of unsympathetic criticism would grieve him greatly if it came to his ears."

"Quite, quite," said Mr. Gallosh eagerly. "I'll make it all right. I understand the sentiment pairfectly. It's verra natural--verra natural indeed."

At that moment the Baron started from his reverie with an affrighted air.

"Vat is zat strange sound!" he exclaimed.

The others listened.

"That's just the pipes, my lord," said Mr. Gallosh. "They're tuning up to welcome you."

His lordship stared at the sh.o.r.e ahead of them.

"Zere are many peoples on ze coast!" he cried. "Vat makes it for?"

"They've come to receive you," his host explained. "It's just a little spontaneous demonstration, my lord."

His lordship's composure in no way increased.

"It was Mrs. Gallosh organized a wee bit entertainment on his lordship's landing," their host explained confidentially to the Count. "It's just informal, ye understand. She's been instructing some of the tenants--and ma own girls will be there--but, oh, it's nothing to speak of. If he says a few words in reply, that'll be all they'll be expecting."

The strains of "Tulliwuddle wha hae" grew ever louder and, to an untrained ear, more terrific. In a moment they were mingled with a clapping of hands and a Highland cheer, the launch glided alongside the pier, and, supported on his faithful friend's arm, the panic-stricken Tulliwuddle staggered ash.o.r.e. Before his dazed eyes there seemed to be arrayed the vastest and most barbaric concourse his worst nightmare had ever imagined. Six pipers played within ten paces of him, each of them arrayed in the full panoply of the clan; at least a dozen dogs yelped their exultation; and from the surrounding throng two ancient men in tartan and four visions in snowy white stepped forth to greet the distinguished visitors.

The first hitch in the proceedings occurred at this point. According to the unofficial but carefully considered programme, the pipers ought to have ceased their melody; but, whether inspired by ecstatic loyalty or because the Tulliwuddle pibroch took longer to perform than had been antic.i.p.ated, they continued to skirl with such vigor that expostulations pa.s.sed entirely unheard. Under the circ.u.mstances there was nothing for it but shouting, and in a stentorian yell Mr. Gallosh introduced his wife and three fair daughters.

Thereupon Mrs. Gallosh, a broad-beamed matron whose complexion contrasted pleasantly with her costume, delivered the following oration--

"Lord Tulliwuddle, in the name of the women of Hechnahoul--I may say in the name of the women of all the Highlands--oor ain Heelands, my lord"