"Billings?" said the Count.

"I come out of Warwickshire," said Mr. Billings.

"Indeed!"

"I was born at Birmingham town."

"Were you, really!"

"My mother's name was Hayes," continued Billings, in a solemn voice. "I was put out to a nurse along with John Billings, a blacksmith; and my father run away. NOW do you know who I am?"

"Why, upon honour, now," said the Count, who was amused,--"upon honour, Mr. Billings, I have not that advantage."

"Well, then, my Lord, YOU'RE MY FATHER!"

Mr. Billings when he said this came forward to the Count with a theatrical air; and, flinging down the breeches of which he was the bearer, held out his arms and stared, having very little doubt but that his Lordship would forthwith spring out of bed and hug him to his heart.

A similar piece of naivete many fathers of families have, I have no doubt, remarked in their children; who, not caring for their parents a single doit, conceive, nevertheless, that the latter are bound to show all sorts of affection for them. His lordship did move, but backwards towards the wall, and began pulling at the bell-rope with an expression of the most intense alarm.

"Keep back, sirrah!--keep back! Suppose I AM your father, do you want to murder me? Good heavens! how the boy smells of gin and tobacco! Don't turn away, my lad; sit down there at a proper distance. And, La Rose, give him some eau-de-Cologne, and get a cup of coffee. Well, now, go on with your story. Egad, my dear Abbe, I think it is very likely that what the lad says is true."

"If it is a family conversation," said the Abbe, "I had better leave you."

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, no! I could not stand the boy alone. Now, Mister ah!--What's-your-name? Have the goodness to tell your story."

Mr. Billings was woefully disconcerted; for his mother and he had agreed that as soon as his father saw him he would be recognised at once, and, mayhap, made heir to the estates and t.i.tle; in which being disappointed, he very sulkily went on with his narrative, and detailed many of those events with which the reader has already been made acquainted. The Count asked the boy's mother's Christian name, and being told it, his memory at once returned to him.

"What! are you little Cat's son?" said his Excellency. "By heavens, mon cher Abbe, a charming creature, but a tigress--positively a tigress. I recollect the whole affair now. She's a little fresh black-haired woman, a'n't she? with a sharp nose and thick eyebrows, ay? Ah yes, yes!" went on my Lord, "I recollect her, I recollect her. It was at Birmingham I first met her: she was my Lady Trippet's woman, wasn't she?"

"She was no such thing," said Mr. Billings, hotly. "Her aunt kept the 'Bugle Inn' on Waltham Green, and your Lordship seduced her."

"Seduced her! Oh, 'gad, so I did. Stap me, now, I did. Yes, I made her jump on my black horse, and bore her off like--like Aeneas bore his wife away from the siege of Rome! hey, l'Abbe?"

"The events were precisely similar," said the Abbe. "It is wonderful what a memory you have!"

"I was always remarkable for it," continued his Excellency. "Well, where was I,--at the black horse? Yes, at the black horse. Well, I mounted her on the black horse, and rode her en croupe, egad--ha, ha!--to Birmingham; and there we billed and cooed together like a pair of turtle-doves: yes--ha!--that we did!"

"And this, I suppose, is the end of some of the BILLINGS?" said the Abbe, pointing to Mr. Tom.

"Billings! what do you mean? Yes--oh--ah--a pun, a calembourg. Fi donc, M. l'Abbe." And then, after the wont of very stupid people, M. de Galgenstein went on to explain to the Abbe his own pun. "Well, but to proceed," cries he. "We lived together at Birmingham, and I was going to be married to a rich heiress, egad! when what do you think this little Cat does? She murders me, egad! and makes me manquer the marriage.

Twenty thousand, I think it was; and I wanted the money in those days.

Now, wasn't she an abominable monster, that mother of yours, hey, Mr.

a--What's-your-name?"

"She served you right!" said Mr. Billings, with a great oath, starting up out of all patience.

"Fellow!" said his Excellency, quite aghast, "do you know to whom you speak?--to a n.o.bleman of seventy-eight descents; a count of the Holy Roman Empire; a representative of a sovereign? Ha, egad! Don't stamp, fellow, if you hope for my protection."

"D--n your protection!" said Mr. Billings, in a fury. "Curse you and your protection too! I'm a free-born Briton, and no ---- French Papist!

And any man who insults my mother--ay, or calls me feller--had better look to himself and the two eyes in his head, I can tell him!" And with this Mr. Billings put himself into the most approved att.i.tude of the c.o.c.kpit, and invited his father, the reverend gentleman, and Monsieur la Rose the valet, to engage with him in a pugilistic encounter. The two latter, the Abbe especially, seemed dreadfully frightened; but the Count now looked on with much interest; and, giving utterance to a feeble kind of chuckle, which lasted for about half a minute, said,--

"Paws off, Pompey! You young hangdog, you--egad, yes, aha! 'pon honour, you're a lad of spirit; some of your father's s.p.u.n.k in you, hey? I know him by that oath. Why, sir, when I was sixteen, I used to swear--to swear, egad, like a Thames waterman, and exactly in this fellow's way!

Buss me, my lad; no, kiss my hand. That will do"--and he held out a very lean yellow hand, peering from a pair of yellow ruffles. It shook very much, and the shaking made all the rings upon it shine only the more.

"Well," says Mr. Billings, "if you wasn't a-going to abuse me nor mother, I don't care if I shake hands with you. I ain't proud!"

The Abbe laughed with great glee; and that very evening sent off to his Court a most ludicrous spicy description of the whole scene of meeting between this amiable father and child; in which he said that young Billings was the eleve favori of M. Kitch, Ecuyer, le bourreau de Londres, and which made the Duke's mistress laugh so much that she vowed that the Abbe should have a bishopric on his return: for, with such store of wisdom, look you, my son, was the world governed in those days.

The Count and his offspring meanwhile conversed with some cordiality.

The former informed the latter of all the diseases to which he was subject, his manner of curing them, his great consideration as chamberlain to the Duke of Bavaria; how he wore his Court suits, and of a particular powder which he had invented for the hair; how, when he was seventeen, he had run away with a canoness, egad! who was afterwards locked up in a convent, and grew to be sixteen stone in weight; how he remembered the time when ladies did not wear patches; and how the d.u.c.h.ess of Marlborough boxed his ears when he was so high, because he wanted to kiss her.

All these important anecdotes took some time in the telling, and were accompanied by many profound moral remarks; such as, "I can't abide garlic, nor white-wine, stap me! nor Sauerkraut, though his Highness eats half a bushel per day. I ate it the first time at Court; but when they brought it me a second time, I refused--refused, split me and grill me if I didn't! Everybody stared; his Highness looked as fierce as a Turk; and that infernal Krahwinkel (my dear, I did for him afterwards)--that cursed Krahwinkel, I say, looked as pleased as possible, and whispered to Countess Fritsch, 'Blitzchen, Frau Grafinn,'

says he, 'it's all over with Galgenstein.' What did I do? I had the entree, and demanded it. 'Altesse,' says I, falling on one knee, 'I ate no kraut at dinner to-day. You remarked it: I saw your Highness remark it.'

"'I did, M. le Comte,' said his Highness, gravely.

"I had almost tears in my eyes; but it was necessary to come to a resolution, you know. 'Sir,' said I, 'I speak with deep grief to your Highness, who are my benefactor, my friend, my father; but of this I am resolved, I WILL NEVER EAT SAUERKRAUT MORE: it don't agree with me.

After being laid up for four weeks by the last dish of Sauerkraut of which I partook, I may say with confidence--IT DON'T agree with me. By impairing my health, it impairs my intellect, and weakens my strength; and both I would keep for your Highness's service.'

"'Tut, tut!' said his Highness. 'Tut, tut, tut!' Those were his very words.

"'Give me my sword or my pen,' said I. 'Give me my sword or my pen, and with these Maximilian de Galgenstein is ready to serve you; but sure,--sure, a great prince will pity the weak health of a faithful subject, who does not know how to eat Sauerkraut?' His Highness was walking about the room: I was still on my knees, and stretched forward my hand to seize his coat.

"'GEHT ZUM TEUFEL, Sir!' said he, in a loud voice (it means 'Go to the deuce,' my dear),--'Geht zum Teufel, and eat what you like!' With this he went out of the room abruptly; leaving in my hand one of his b.u.t.tons, which I keep to this day. As soon as I was alone, amazed by his great goodness and bounty, I sobbed aloud--cried like a child" (the Count's eyes filled and winked at the very recollection), "and when I went back into the card-room, stepping up to Krahwinkel, 'Count,' says I, 'who looks foolish now?'--Hey there, La Rose, give me the diamond--Yes, that was the very pun I made, and very good it was thought. 'Krahwinkel,'

says I, 'WHO LOOKS FOOLISH NOW?' and from that day to this I was never at a Court-day asked to eat Sauerkraut--NEVER!"

"Hey there, La Rose! Bring me that diamond snuff-box in the drawer of my secretaire;" and the snuff-box was brought. "Look at it, my dear," said the Count, "for I saw you seemed to doubt. There is the b.u.t.ton--the very one that came off his Grace's coat."

Mr. Billings received it, and twisted it about with a stupid air. The story had quite mystified him; for he did not dare yet to think his father was a fool--his respect for the aristocracy prevented him.

When the Count's communications had ceased, which they did as soon as the story of the Sauerkraut was finished, a silence of some minutes ensued. Mr. Billings was trying to comprehend the circ.u.mstances above narrated; his Lordship was exhausted; the chaplain had quitted the room directly the word Sauerkraut was mentioned--he knew what was coming. His Lordship looked for some time at his son; who returned the gaze with his mouth wide open. "Well," said the Count--"well, sir? What are you sitting there for? If you have nothing to say, sir, you had better go. I had you here to amuse me--split me--and not to sit there staring!"

Mr. Billings rose in a fury.

"Hark ye, my lad," said the Count, "tell La Rose to give thee five guineas, and, ah--come again some morning. A nice well-grown young lad,"

mused the Count, as Master Tommy walked wondering out of the apartment; "a pretty fellow enough, and intelligent too."

"Well, he IS an odd fellow, my father," thought Mr. Billings, as he walked out, having received the sum offered to him. And he immediately went to call upon his friend Polly Briggs, from whom he had separated in the morning.

What was the result of their interview is not at all necessary to the progress of this history. Having made her, however, acquainted with the particulars of his visit to his father, he went to his mother's, and related to her all that had occurred.

Poor thing, she was very differently interested in the issue of it!

CHAPTER X. SHOWING HOW GALGENSTEIN AND MRS. CAT RECOGNISE EACH OTHER IN MARYLEBONE GARDENS--AND HOW THE COUNT DRIVES HER HOME IN HIS CARRIAGE.

About a month after the touching conversation above related, there was given, at Marylebone Gardens, a grand concert and entertainment, at which the celebrated Madame Amenaide, a dancer of the theatre at Paris, was to perform, under the patronage of several English and foreign n.o.blemen; among whom was his Excellency the Bavarian Envoy. Madame Amenaide was, in fact, no other than the maitresse en t.i.tre of the Monsieur de Galgenstein, who had her a great bargain from the Duke de Rohan-Chabot at Paris.