“_Farewell, my friends, farewell! We have had some brave days
together!_”
--Boulevardé.
[Illustration: 9343]
HE momentous day had come. Looking out of my bedroom window in the
morning, I saw the sunshine smiling on the bare trees and the frosted
grass of the park. At that hour the shadows were long, and Rotten Row
quiet as a lonely sea-shore, so that a lively flock of sparrows seemed
to fill the whole air with their cheerful discussions, and I fancied
they were debating whether they could let me go away and leave forever
this little home that I had made.
“I would stay,” I said to them; “I would stay if I could.”
But, alas! it was to be my last day in England, the land I had first
regarded as so alien, and then come to love so well. And there was no
use standing here letting my spirit run down at heel.
Yet, when I came into my sitting-room and saw the bareness that had
already been made by my preparations for departure, the absence of
little things my eye had before fallen upon without noticing, and the
presence of a half-packed box in one corner, my heart began to feel an
emptiness again.
“I feel as a man must when he is going to get married,” I said to
myself, and endeavored to smile gayly at my humor.
Hardly had I finished my breakfast, endeavoring as I read as usual my
morning paper to forget that I was leaving all this, when I heard a
quick step in the passage, and with a brisk, “Bon jour, monsieur!” the
Marquis entered.
“Ah,” I thought, “he is in his element. No regrets with him.”
Yet, after the first alertness of his entry, I observed, to my surprise,
a certain air of sentiment about him, which, if it was not regret, was
at least not martial keenness.
“You did your business yesterday?” I said.
“I did,” he replied, in a grave tone, and with something like a tender
look in his eye. “I did some private business of an unforgettable and
momentous nature, my dear d'Haricot. But not now; I shall not tell you
now. To-night you shall know.”
Then, making a gesture as if to banish this mood, he threw himself into
a chair, and, bending his brows in a keen look at me, said:
“But to business, my friend; to the business we are embarked upon.”
“Precisely,” I said. “I await it.”
“In this house where you dine are two entrances. Your guests come in by
one, and you await them in the rooms I have set apart for you. In the
rest of the house I operate.”
“And what do you do?”
“I gather our force. Men picked by my agents are to be invited to enter
by the other door. I offer them refreshments. They follow, or, rather,
precede me. In a lane at the back of the house is yet another door;
against it is drawn up a great van, a van used for removing furniture, a
van of colossal size. You see?”
“Hardly; I fear I am stupid.”
“You do not see? Ah, my dear d'Haricot, eloquence is your gift,
contrivance mine. I have not invented a flying-machine, a submarine
vessel, and a dynamite gun for nothing. These men enter this van; the
door is closed upon them; it is driven to the station, put on board my
special train, and taken to the coast. They then emerge; I address them
in such terms as will make it impossible for them to withdraw, even if
they wish--and they are to be desperate, picked men; we arm them,
and then to France! On the coast of Normandy we will be met by five
regiments of foot, two of cavalry, and six batteries of artillery which
I am assured will declare for the King. Paris is ripe for a revolution.
Vive le Roi! Why are you silent? Is it not well thought of, my friend?”
“It is indeed ingenious,” I replied. “But the carrying of it out I
foresee may not be so easy.”
“Nothing can fail. My confidence is implicit. Was I ever deceived?”
I might with truth have retorted “always,” but I saw that I should only
enrage him.
I shrugged my shoulders and asked:
“You superintend the affair?”
“In the house. Hankey makes the arrangements at the station. Much is to
be done. One man to one task.”
“And I? What do I do?”
“You bring your friends to the station. At eleven precisely the train
starts. Do not be late.”
“But if they will not accompany me?”
“If all else fails, we go to France together. At least our brave
countrymen will not be afraid, whatever these colder islanders may do.”
“You may depend on me for that,” I answered. “By-the-way, I should tell
you that I bring a friend of my own to dinner--M. Lumme.”
“Lumme!” cried the Marquis. “You can trust him?”
“Implicitly.”
“And I trust you. Bring him if he is brave.” There was a minute's pause;
he had suddenly fallen silent.
“Is that all?” I asked.
“All for the present, my brave friend; au revoir! We meet at the station
at eleven precisely! Do not forget!”
He leaped up with that surprising vivacity that marked his movements,
and before I had time to accompany him even as far as the door he had
closed it and gone. In a moment, however, I heard his voice outside,
apparently engaged in altercation with some one, and then followed some
vigorous expletives and a brisk sound of scuffling.
I rushed into the passage, and there, to my consternation, beheld my
friend retreating towards me before a vigorous onslaught by Halfred,
who was flourishing his fists and exclaiming, “Come out, you beastly
mounseer! Come out into the square and I'll paste your hugly mug inter a
cocked at!”
“Diable!” cried the Marquis. “Leetle bad man stop short! Mon Dieu! What
can it was?”
“Halfred!” I cried, indignantly. “Cease! What is the meaning of this?”
“Beg pardon, sir,” said Halfred, desisting, but unabashed at my anger.
“You told me yourself, sir, as ow I was to do it.”
“I told you? Explain! Come into my room.”
I brought the two combatants in, closed the door, and repeated, sternly:
“Explain, sir!”
“This is the furriner as haccosted Miss Titch, sir,” said Halfred,
doggedly, “and you said as 'ow I'd better practise my boxing on 'im.
I didn't spot 'im the other night, but Miss Titch she seed 'im this
morning and told me.”
“I know not the meaning you mean when you speak so fast!” cried the
Marquis. “But I see you are intoxicate, foddled and squiff. Small beast,
to damn with you!”
[Illustration: 0348]
“You just wait till I gets you outside,” said Halfred, ominously. “I'll
give you something to talk German about!”
“German!” shrieked the Marquis, catching at the only word he understood.
“If you was gentleman not as could be which I then should--ha!” And he
stamped his foot and made a gesture of lunging my retainer through the
chest.
“Oh, you're ready to begin, are you?” said Halfred, mistaking this
movement for the preliminary to a box and throwing himself into the
proper attitude.
“With your permission, sir.”
“Stop!” I said. “You certainly have not my permission! I shall dismiss
you if you strike my guest again!”
Yet I fear I was unable to keep my countenance as severe as it should
have been. I then turned to the livid and furious Marquis and explained
the cause of the assault.
“Address that girl!” cried he. “It was to ask her questions--questions
about you, monsieur, when I wrongly distrusted you. This is a scandalous
charge!”
“But you see how liable your action was to misconstruction?”
“I see, I do see!” he exclaimed. “He was right to feel jealous! I have
given many good cause, yes, I confess it. Explain to him.”
I told Halfred of his mistake.
“Well, sir,” he said, “I takes your word, sir.”
“Good young man,” said the Marquis, turning to him with his finest
courtesy. “I forgive. I admire. You have right. Many have I love, but
your mistress is not admired of me. She is preserve! Good-night, young
man; good-night, monsieur.”
And off he marched as briskly as ever.
Halfred shook his head darkly.
“Him being a friend of yours, sir, I says nothing,” he observed, but his
abstinence from further comment was more eloquent than even his candid
opinion would have been.
I posted my letter, I smoked, I read a book to pass the time, and at
last, as the afternoon was wearing on, I went to my bedroom and packed
a bag containing a change of clothes and other essentials, for I
remembered that I should have to drive straight from the dinner-table
to the train. I looked out into the street; dusk was falling, the lamps
were lit, the lights of a carriage and the rattle of horses passed
now and then, the steady hum of London reached my ears. It was still
cheerful and inviting, but now my nerves were tighter strung and I felt
rather excitement than depression.
“Monsieur! You in there?”
The voice came from my sitting-room. I started, I rushed towards the
welcome sound, and the next moment I was embracing Dick Shafthead. He
looked so uncomfortable at this un-English salutation that I had to
begin with an apology.
“Never before and never again, I assure you!” I said. “For the instant
I forgot myself; that is the truth. Tell me, what good angel has sent
you?”
For I knew his sister could not yet have received my letter.
“We were afraid you'd got into the hands of the police again, and I've
come prepared to bail you out. What the deuce happened to you?”
“You heard the circumstances of my departure?”
“We heard a cock-and-bull story from a thickheaded yokel--something
about a pistol and a villain with a mustache and a carriage and pair;
but as we learned that you'd appeared at the station safe and sound, we
divided the yarn by five. I must say, though, I've been getting a little
worried at hearing no news of you--that's to say, the women folk got in
a flutter.”
“Did they?” I cried, with a pleasant excitement I could not quite
conceal.
“Naturally, we are not accustomed to have our guests vanish like an
Indian juggler. I've come to see what's up.”
I told him then the whole story, letting the Marquis's prohibition go to
the winds. He listened in amused astonishment.
“Well,” he said, at last, “it seems I've just come in time for the fair.
You've napkins enough to feed another conspirator, I suppose?”
“You are the one man I want!”
“That's all right, then,” said Dick. “I'd better be off to my rooms to
dress. Where shall we meet?”
“I will call for you soon after half-past seven. The house is not far
from the Temple, I believe.” So now, thanks to Providence, I would have
both my best friends by my side. My spirits rose high, and I began to
look forward gayly even to urging a bishop to start by a night train
with a repeating-rifle.
Soon after seven Teddy appeared, immaculate and garrulous as ever, and
in high spirits at the thought of the shock his reverend father would
get on finding him included among the select party.
“The governor's looking forward to having a great night of it,” said
this irreverend son. “Scratching his head when I last saw him, trying to
remember the stories he generally tells to dooks and royalties. I told
him he'd better get up a few spicy ones to tickle a Frenchie, don't you
know.”
[Illustration: 0352]
“My faith!” I exclaimed; “how disappointed they will all be! I scarcely
have the face to meet them.”
“Rot,” said Teddy. “Do 'em good. Hullo! what's this bag for? Oh, I see,
you cross to-night, don't you? Is Halfred going with you?”
I also looked at my servant in surprise. He was dressed in his overcoat,
and stood holding my bag in one hand and his hat in the other.
“Going to take your bag down for you, sir,” he explained.
“But I do not need you, my good Halfred. I was just going to say
farewell to you this moment.”
“I'm a-coming,” he persisted.
“Even against my wishes?”
“Beg pardon, sir, but that there furriner, 'e' s in this show, ain't
he?”
“Why should you think so?”
“I smells a rat, sir, as soon as I sees 'im. I don't mean no offence,
but you don't know Hengland as well as I do. I'll come along, sir,
and if you happens to be thinking of a trip across the channel, I was
thinking, sir, a change of hair wouldn't do me no 'arm.”
“But I cannot allow you! There is danger!”
“Just as I thought, sir; but I'm ready for 'em.”
And, laying down the bag, he showed me the butt of an immense pistol in
his overcoat-pocket.
“Halfred,” I cried, “you may not glitter, but you are of gold! Come,
then, my brave fellow, if you will!”
“Good sportsman, isn't he?” said Teddy, as we drove off together.
At a quarter to eight we three, Teddy and Dick and I, alighted at number
Twenty-two Beacon Street, Strand, to find Halfred and the bag awaiting
us outside the door. A waiter with a mysterious air showed us up a
narrow staircase into a small, well-furnished reception-room. Beyond
this, through folding-doors, opened a dining-room of moderate size,
where we found the table laid and ready. The man closed the door and
disappeared, and the four of us were left to await the arrival of my
guests.
[Illustration: 8000]