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Updated: June 16, 2025
They were both dressed in the smartest of tweed suits, and walked jauntily, like men who knew their own value. Every now and then, as they passed a pretty face, the Baron would say, “Aha, Bonker! zat is not so bad, eh?”
He rushed into the smoking-room, and there, instead of any bald notability or spectacled statesman, there advanced to meet him a merely private English gentleman, tolerably young, undeniably good-looking, and graced with the most debonair of smiles. "My dear Bonker!" cried the Baron, crimsoning with joy. "Ach, how pleased I am!" "Baron!" replied his visitor gaily.
“Zey vill not take you ven you tell zem! I shall insist viz Sir Richard!” “The law is the law, Baron, and I’m a certified lunatic. Here we must part till the weather clears; and mind, you mustn’t say a word about my coming to see you.” The Baron looked at him disconsolately. “You most really go, Bonker?” “Really, Baron.” “And vere to?” “To London town again by the milk train.”
He insisted upon opening the door wide, and getting Bunker to address him as "Tollyvoddle," in a strident voice, "so zat zey all may hear," and then answering in a firm "Yes, Count Bonker, vat vould you say to me?" It is true that he instantly closed the door again, and even bolted it, but his display seemed to make a vast impression upon himself.
"Then you don't think of leaving to-morrow morning?" asked Count Bunker, who was watching him with a complacent air. "Mein Gott, no fears!" "We had better wait, perhaps, till the afternoon?" "I go not for tree veeks! Gaben sie das ist, gim'me zat tombler. Vun more of mountain juice to ze health of all Galloshes! Partic'ly of vun! Eh, old Bonker?"
The Baron came from an economical nation. "Two to each!" "My dear fellow, wasn't it worth it?" The Baron grasped his hand. "Ja, mine Bonker, it vas! I vill pay zem." Radiant and smiling, he returned to receive the congratulations of his guests, dreaming that his triumph was complete, and that nothing more arduous remained than pleasant dalliance alternately with his Eleanor and his Eva.
He is vat you call impostor, cracked; he has vollowed me from Germany. Go avay, man!” “You are impostor! You scoundrel, Bonker!” shouted the wrathful Baron. “He is no Baron, Sir Richard! Ha! Vould you again deceive me, Bonker?” “You must lock him up, I fear,” said Mr Bunker. “To-morrow, my man, you vill see ze police.”
"And suppose she is ogly or not so nice or so on zen vill I not see her, eh?" "But suppose she is tolerable?" "Zen vill ve give him a choice, and I vill continue to be polite to Miss Gallosh. Ah, Bonker, she is so nice! He vill not like Miss Maddison so vell! Himmel, I do admire her!" The Baron's eyes shone with reminiscent affection.
We could borrow a trap this afternoon " "Nein, nein!" interrupted the Baron. "Donnerwetter! Ach, no, it most not be so soon. I most practise a leetle first. Not so immediately, Bonker." Bunker looked at him with a glance of unfathomable calm. "I find that it will be necessary for you to observe one or two ancient ceremonies, associated from time immemorial with the accession of a Tulliwuddle.
"If you got a chance of showing yourself off to Miss Maddison she'd jump at you!" A gleam, inspired and humorous, leaped into Essington's eyes. The Baron, whose glance happened at the moment to fall on him, bounded gleefully from his seat. "Hoch!" he cried, "it is mine old Bonker zat I see before me! Vat have you in your mind?"
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