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But at this juncture, with a discreet knock, Peterby entered, and, having bowed to the scowling Viscount, proceeded to invest Barnabas with polished boots, waistcoat and scarlet coat, and to tie his voluminous cravat, all with that deftness, that swift and silent dexterity which helped to make him the marvel he was.
It is a great inn with two galleries one above another and many windows, and here, despite the early hour, a motley crowd is gathered. Forthwith Barnabas climbs down, and edging his way through the throng, presently finds Peterby at his elbow. "Breakfast, sir?" "Bed, Peterby." "Very good this way, sir."
"Yes, sir," said Peterby, and, taking up the pistol, he went out, closing the door behind him. Mr. Chichester still lounged in the window, and hummed softly to himself; but as for Barnabas, he sat rigid in his chair, staring blankly at the opposite wall, his eyes wide, his lips tense, and with a gleam of moisture amid the curls at his temples.
So Barnabas took the letter and broke the seal. It was a very short letter, but as he read Barnabas frowned blacker than ever. "Mr. Shrig," said he very earnestly as he folded and pocketed the letter, "will you do something for me will you take a note to my servant, John Peterby? You'll find him at the 'Oak and Ivy' in Hawkhurst village." "Vich, seeing as you're a pal, sir, I vill.
"Wal, wherever the poor critter's gone, I reckon she's l'arned to bridle her tongue," said Mr. Peterby Paul cheerfully. "Howsomever, as the feller said, that's another day's job. Mr. Frenchy, let's pour this gasoline into them tanks." Ruth insisted upon paying for the gasoline, and paying well.
"Ah, yes even the Viscount has quarrelled with me," sighed Barnabas, "next it will be the Marquis, I suppose, and after him Gad, John Peterby I shall have only you left!" "Indeed, sir, you will always have me always!" "Yes, John, I think I shall." "Sir, when you gave a miserable wretch another chance to live and be a man, you were young and full of life."
Chichester's right hand. Without a word Mr. Chichester rose, and leaving the weapon upon the table, turned and walked to the window, while Mr. Dalton, having unlocked the door, hurried away to the stable-yard, and was now heard calling for the ostlers. "Peterby," said Barnabas, "take this thing and throw it into the horse-pond; yet, no, give it to the gentleman who just went out."
Then Barnabas crossed to a mirror, and, once more, fell to studying his reflection with critical eyes, in the midst of which examination he looked up to find Peterby beside him. "Are you quite satisfied, sir?" "They are wonderful, John." "The coat," said Peterby, "y-e-s, the coat will pass well enough, but I have grave doubts as regard the pantaloons." "I refuse to have 'em touched, John.
Hereupon the Viscount having walked round Barnabas three times, and viewed him critically from every angle, nodded with an air of finality. "Yes, they do you infinite credit, my dear fellow, like everything else;" and he cast a comprehensive glance round the luxurious apartment. "The credit of it all rests entirely with Peterby," said Barnabas. "John where are you?" But Peterby had disappeared.
But at this juncture came Peterby, sedate, grave, soft of voice as became a major-domo and the pink of a gentleman's gentleman, before whose quick bright eye the legs of the Gentleman-in-Powder grew, as it were, suddenly abashed, and to whom the Bo'sun, having made a leg, forthwith addressed himself.
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