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Updated: May 16, 2025
"Another bottle of the same," said Bunker aside to the waiter. It was an hour later; the scene and the personages the same, but the atmosphere marvellously altered. "To ze ladies, Bonker!" "To HER, Baron!" "To zem both!" The genial heart, the magnanimous soul of Rudolph von Blitzenberg had asserted their dominion again.
Come! you vould not be seen here?" He offered one arm to Eva, the other to Eleanor; and so alarming were the gesticulations of the approaching cyclist, and so beseeching the Baron's tones, that without more ado they clung to him and hurried on to the platform. "Come to ze vaiting-room!" he whispered. "Zere shall ve be safe!" Alack for the luck of the Baron von Blitzenberg!
Well, my friend is the Baron von Blitzenberg; and the lady is, as she stated, his wife." "Then all this time " began Eva. "He was married!" Eleanor finished for her. "Oh, the heartless scoundrel! To think that I rescued him!" "I wouldn't have either!" said Eva; "I mean if if I had known he treated you so badly." "Treated ME! I was only thinking of YOU, Miss Gallosh!"
Here shall I not have to be alvays ze Baron von Blitzenberg, oldest noble in Bavaria, hereditary carpet-beater to ze Court! I vill disguise and go mit old Bonker for a frolic!" "You touch my tenderest chord, Baron!" "Goot, goot, my friend!" cried the Baron, warming to his work of confession like a penitent whose absolution is promised in advance; "you speak ze vords I love to hear!
"I'm beastly sorry for being so late," said he; "but I'm hanged if I could make up my mind whether to risk wearing one of these frilled shirt-fronts. It's not bad, I think, with one's tie tied this way. What do you say?" "It suits you like a halo," Essington assured him. "But let me introduce you to my friend the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg."
The Count's cheerful tone did not seem to please his friend. "Your heart, he is too light, Bonker; ja, too light. Last night you did engourage me not to be seemly." "I did get almost dronk. If my head vas not so hard I should be dronk. Das ist not right. If I am to be ze Tollyvoddle, it most be as I vould be Von Blitzenberg. I most not forget zat I am not as ozzer men.
He stroked his beard, twisted his moustaches half regretfully, and then exclaiming, “Exit Mr Beveridge,” turned into the shop. The Baron Rudolf von Blitzenberg sat by himself at a table in the dining-room of the Hôtel Mayonaise, which, as everybody knows, is the largest and most expensive in London. He was a young man of a florid and burly Teutonic type and the most ingenuous countenance.
Suppose the clock be set back four-and-twenty hours, and behold now the Baron von Blitzenberg, the diplomatist and premier baron of Bavaria, engaged in unhappy argument with himself. Unhappy, because his reason, though so carefully trained from the kindergarten upward, proved unable to combat the dismal onsets of superstition. "Pooh! who cares for an old picture?" Reason would reiterate.
This confirmation of Mr Bunker’s aliases ought, one would expect, to have delighted the two conspirators, but, instead, it produced the most remarkable effect. Twiddel utterly collapsed, while even Welsh’s impudence at last deserted him. Neither said a word as the Baron von Blitzenberg greeted his friend with affectionate heartiness. “My friend, zis is good for ze heart!
"Madam, there is room here!" he announced politely, as they swept past; but with set faces they panted toward the doomed von Blitzenberg.
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