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Updated: June 16, 2025
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.
The first statement, though eminently satisfactory, was also a little bewildering. “Two hondred generations?” he asked, courteously. “Zat is a vary old family. All bore arms you say, Mistair Bonker?” “All,” replied Mr Bunker, gravely. “The first few bore tails as well.” “Ha, ha, ha!” laughed the Baron. “You are a fonny man I pairceive, vat you call clown, yes?”
No, no; I most see zem more zan zat." "How long do you expect the process will take you?" For the first time the Baron noticed with surprise a shade of impatience in his friend's voice. "Are you in a horry, Bonker?" "My dear Baron, I grudge no man his sport particularly if he is careful to label it his duty.
“Bonker, I haf a suspection!” he exclaimed, suddenly. “It is not I, bot you, who are ze friend to ze beautiful Lady Alicia. You are not doing me fair!” “My dear Baron!” “It is so: you are not doing me fair,” the Baron reiterated. “My dear fellow,” replied Mr Bunker, “it is you are so much in love that you have lost your wonted courage. You don’t use your chances.” “I do not get zem.”
As the door closed Mr Bunker went off into roar after roar of laughter, but the humorous side of the situation seemed to appeal very slightly to his injured friend. “You rascal! you villain!” he shouted, “zis is ze end of our friendship, Bonker! Do you use ze pistols? Tell me, sare!” “My dear Baron,” gasped Mr Bunker, “I could not put such an inartistic end to so fine a joke for the world.”
Vunce more I schmell ze mountain dew I hear ze pipes I gaze into loffly eyes I am ze noblest part of mineself! Bonker, I vill defy ze mozzer of my wife! I drink to you, my friend, mit hip hip hip hooray!" "You have more than repaid me," replied the Count, "by the spectacle you have provided. Dear Baron, it was a panorama calculated to convert a continent!"
“But I—I didn’t like the idea, you see; and so—in fact—Welsh suggested that I should take him instead.” “While you locked me up in Clankwood?” “Yes.” “Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Mr Bunker, “I must say it was a devilish humorous idea.” At this Twiddel began to take heart again. “I am very sorry, sir, for——” he began, when the Baron interrupted excitedly. “Zen vat is your name, Bonker?”
Again Miss Wallingford's color rose. In a low and ardent voice she began "I am so glad to meet you! Your name is already " But at that instant, when the Count was bending forward to catch the words and the lady bending down to utter them, a hand grasped him by the sleeve, and the Baron's voice exclaimed, "Come, Bonker, quickly here to help me!"
Bot go!" he cried, "and zen come back here to-morrow and ve vill leave togezzer." "Leave you alone, with the barometer falling and the storm-cone hoisted? I don't like to, Baron." "Bot to leave zat leetle girl eh, Bonker? How is zat?" "Was ever a man so torn between two duties!" exclaimed the conscientious Count. "Ladies come first!" quoth the Baron.
This might not entirely satisfy the aspirations of his soul, yet it seemed to serve as some vent for his pent-up spirit. He turned to his spouse with a pleasantly meditative air. "I should like to see old Bonker vunce more," he observed. "Bunker? You mean Mr. Mandell-Essington?" said she, with an apprehensive note in her voice. "To me he vill alvays be Bonker."
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