And Mr Bunker, who seemed not unwilling that his friend should find some entertaining distraction in St Egbert's, would look at the owners of these faces with a prospector's eye and his own unrivalled a.s.surance.

They had walked up and down three or four times, when a desire for a different species of diversion began to overtake the Baron. It was the one kind of desire that the Baron never even tried to wrestle with.

"My vriend Bonker," said he, "is it not somevere about time for loncheon, eh?"

"I should say it was precisely the hour."

"Ha, ha! zen, let us gom and eat. Himmel, zis sea is ze fellow to make von hungry!"

The Baron had taken a private suite of rooms on the first floor of the best hotel in St Egbert's, and after a very substantial lunch Mr Bunker stretched himself on the luxurious sitting-room sofa and announced his intention of having a nap.

"I shall go out," said the Baron. "You vill not gom?"

"I shall leave you to make a single-handed conquest," replied Mr Bunker.

"Besides, I have a little matter I want to look into."

So the Baron arranged his hat airily, at what he had perceived to be the most fashionable and effective English angle, and strutted off to the esplanade.

It was about two hours later that he burst excitedly into the room, crying, "Aha, mine Bonker! I haf disgovered zomzing!" and then he stopped in some surprise. "Ello, vat make you, my vriend?"

His friend, in fact, seemed to be somewhat singularly employed. Through a dense cloud of tobacco-smoke you could just pick him out of the depths of an armchair, his feet resting on the mantelpiece, while his lap and all the floor round about were covered with immense books. The Baron's curiosity was still further excited by observing that they consisted princ.i.p.ally of a London and a St Egbert's directory, several volumes of a Dictionary of National Biography, and one or two peerages and county family compilations.

He looked up with a smile. "You may well wonder, my dear Baron. The fact is, I am looking for a name."

"A name! vat name?"

"Alas! if I knew what it was I should stop looking, and I confess I'm rather sick of the job."

"Vich vay do you look, zen?"

"Simply by wading my way through all the lists of names I could steal or borrow. It's devilish dry work."

"Ze name of a vriend, is it?"

"Yes; but I'm afraid I must wait till it comes. And what is this discovery, Baron? A petticoat, I presume. After all, they are the only things worth finding," and he shut the books one after another.

"A petticoat with ze fairest girl inside it!" exclaimed the Baron, rapturously.

"Your eyes seem to have been singularly penetrating, Baron. Was she dark or fair, tall or short, fat or slender, widow, wife, or maid?"

"Fair, viz blue eyes, short pairhaps but not too short, slender as a-a-drom-stick, and I vould say a maid; at least I see vun stout old lady mit her, mozzer and daughter I soppose."

"And did this piece of perfection seem to appreciate you?"

"Vy should I know? Zey are ze real ladies and pairtend not to see me, bot I zink zey notice me all ze same. Not 'lady vriends,' Bonker, ha, ha, ha!"

Mr Bunker laughed with reminiscent amus.e.m.e.nt, and inquired, "And how did the romance end-in a cab, Baron?"

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the Baron; "better zan zat, Bonker-moch better!"

Mr Bunker raised his eyebrows.

"It's hardly the time of year for a romance to end in a bathing-machine.

You followed the divinity to her rented heaven, perhaps?"

The Baron bent forward and answered in a stage whisper, "Zey live in zis hotel, Bonker!"

"Then I can only wish you joy, Baron, and if my funds allow me, send her a wedding present."

"Ach, not quite so fast, my vriend! I am not caught so easy."

"My dear fellow, a week at close quarters is sufficient to net any man."

"Ven I marry," replied the Baron, "moch most be considered. A von Blitzenberg does not mate viz every vun."

"A good many families have made the same remark, but one does not always meet the fathers-in-law."

"Ha, ha! ve shall see. Bot, Bonker, she is lofly!"

The Baron awaited dinner with even more than his usual ardour. He dressed with the greatest care, and at an absurdly early hour was already urging his friend to come down and take their places. Indeed after a time there was no withholding him, and they finally took their seats in the dining-room before anybody else.

At what seemed to the impatient Baron unconscionably long intervals a few people dropped in and began to study their menus and glance with an air of uncomfortable suspicion at their neighbours.

"I vonder vill she gom," he said three or four times at least.

"Console yourself, my dear Baron," his friend would reply; "they always come. That's seldom the difficulty."

And the Baron would dally with his victuals in the most unwonted fashion, and growl at the rapidity with which the courses followed one another.

"Do zey suppose ve vish to eat like--?" he began, and then laying his hand on his friend's sleeve, he whispered, "She goms!"

Mr Bunker turned his head just in time to see in the doorway the Countess of Grillyer and the Lady Alicia a Fyre.

"Is she not fair?" asked the Baron, excitedly.

"I entirely approve of your taste, Baron. I have only once seen any one quite like her before."

With a gratified smile the Baron filled his gla.s.s, while his friend seemed amused by some humorous reflection of his own.

The Lady Alicia and her mother had taken their seats at a table a little way off, and at first their eyes never happened to turn in the direction of the two friends. But at last, after looking at the ceiling, the carpet, the walls, the other people, everything else in the room it seemed, Lady Alicia's glance fell for an instant on the Baron. That n.o.bleman looked as interesting as a mouthful of roast duck would permit him, but the glance pa.s.sed serenely on to Mr Bunker. For a moment it remained serene; suddenly it became startled and puzzled, and at that instant Mr Bunker turned his own eyes full upon her, smiled slightly, and raised his gla.s.s to his lips.

The glance fell, and the Lady Alicia blushed down to the diamonds in her necklace.

The Baron insisted on lingering over his dinner till the charmer was finished, and so by a fortuitous coincidence they left the room immediately behind the Countess. The Baron pa.s.sed them in the pa.s.sage, and a few yards farther he looked round for his friend, and the Countess turned to look for her daughter.

They saw Lady Alicia following with an intensely unconscious expression, while Mr Bunker was in the act of returning to the dining-room.

"I wanted to secure a table for breakfast," he explained.