Mr. Van Torp reached his quarters, and prepared to scrub and dress comfortably after a week at Bayreuth and a railway journey.
'Stemp.'
'Yes, sir.'
'That was quite nicely done. You must have had a lively time.'
'Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Hope everything is tolerably satisfactory to you, sir.'
'Yes. Find anything good to eat? Chickens don't take gilding well, you know—doesn't taste together. But I suppose you found something. Seen the cook?'
'Yes, sir. I think things will be tolerable, sir, though this is not London, I must say.'
Mr. Van Torp showed no surprise at the statement, and disappeared into his bath-room, well pleased with himself and his man. But a moment later he opened the door again and thrust out his square sandy head. [{342}]
'Stemp, where have you put the Count? Far from here? I don't want him near me.'
'Last cabin forward on the port side, sir, next to the smoking-room. Very good cabin, sir.'