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Updated: June 14, 2025
Won't give no name, sir, won't go away, sir. A very 'orrid person in gaiters, sir." "What does he want?" said Barnabas, with head still bent. "Says as 'ow 'e 'as a letter for you, sir, but " Barnabas was on his feet so quickly that the Gentleman-in-Powder recoiled in alarm. "Show him up at once!" "Oh! cer-tainly, sir!"
It was thus that the Gentleman-in-Powder presently found him, and, advancing into the room with insinuating legs, coughed gently to attract his attention, the which proving ineffectual, he spoke: "Ex-cuse me, sir, but there is a person downstairs, sir at the door, sir!" "What kind of person?" inquired Barnabas without looking up. "A most ex-tremely low person, sir very common indeed, sir.
The knuckles of the Gentleman-in-Powder here made themselves heard, and thereafter the door opened to admit his calves, which were immediately eclipsed by the Marquis, who appeared to be in a state of unwonted hurry. "What, have I beat Slingsby, then?" he inquired, glancing round the room, "he was close behind me in Piccadilly must have had a spill that's the worst of those high curricles.
But it is to be remarked that as he hastened downstairs, his lips had taken on their humorous curve, and the twinkle was back in his eyes; also he nodded his head, as who would say: "I thought so! The Lady Cleone Meredith, eh? Well, the sooner the better!" Thus the Bo'sun had barely finished his ale, when the Gentleman-in-Powder appeared to say the phaeton was at the door.
By reason of these things, the legs of the Gentleman-in-Powder were exalted, that is to say, were in a perpetual quiver of superior gratification, and Barnabas himself enjoyed it all vastly for a week. "Are these all?" he inquired, waving his hand towards the letters. "Them, sir, is hall!" answered the Gentleman-in-Powder. "Then ask Mr.
"Avast there!" said this personage in deep, albeit jovial tones, "ease away there, my lad, stand by and let old Timbertoes come aboard!" But the Gentleman-in-Powder was not to be cajoled. He sniffed. "The hother door, me good feller!" he repeated, relentless but dignified, "and ring only, if you pl "
Pardon me one moment, there is a wrinkle in your left stocking, silk stockings are very apt to " But here the legs of the Gentleman-in-Powder planted themselves quivering on the threshold to announce: "Viscount Devenham!" He still carried his arm in a sling, but, excepting this, the Viscount was himself again, Bright-eyed, smiling and debonair.
And though the bow of the Gentleman-in-Powder was all that it should be, his legs quivered disapprobation as they took him downstairs. When next the door opened it was to admit the person in gaiters, a shortish, broad-shouldered, bullet-headed person he was, and his leggings were still rank of the stables; he was indeed a very horsey person who stared and chewed upon a straw.
"Are you in, sir?" he inquired in an utterly impersonal tone. "In?" repeated Barnabas, with a quick downward glance at his tight nether garments, "in? in what? in where?" "Are you at 'ome, sir?" "At home? Of course, can't you see that?" "Yes, sir," returned the Gentleman-in-Powder, his legs growing a little agitated. "Then why do you ask?" "There is a person below, sir." "A person?"
"Certainly, Bo'sun," said Peterby; and, to the Gentleman-in-Powder, his bow was impressive; "pray step this way." So the Bo'sun, treading as softly as his wooden leg would allow, stumped after him upstairs and along a thickly carpeted corridor, to a certain curtained door upon which Peterby gently knocked, and thereafter opening, motioned the Bo'sun to enter.
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