“Thank you very much, sir,” he said quickly. “And who do you consider the next best?”
“The next best is my brother, sir, the Reverend Theophilus Hillman.”
The stranger raised his hat and hurried away.
This Canon Hillman had a reputation for that sort of frankness suggested by the story which I have ventured to repeat as it was told to me, and which I have no difficulty in believing, from the example I had of his manner several years ago. I was sojourning at an hotel between Nice and Beaulieu, and he appeared one night at table d'hôte dinner. It was the custom for the proprietor, who, curiously enough, did not speak or understand English, though he was a Swiss, to stand at the entrance to the salle à manger, bowing out his guests as they passed into the spacious lounge after dinner, and in returning his courtesy, people said a word or two in commendation of his cuisine, to which he responded with further bows.
It so happened upon this particular night, however, that one or two little mistakes had occurred to mar the harmony of the repast as a whole—they were quite trifles—the pré salé being underdone and a jelly not having set with that rigidity which is expected in such comestibles, but which is not always to be found in them.
While we were filing out of the room I was almost immediately behind Canon Hillman, and I heard him grumbling to a man who had been at his table, but who did not seem to sympathise with him; and this went on until they had reached the bowing proprietor, when the Canon stopped.
“I wish to tell you, sir, that I have never eaten a worse dinner at any hotel in my life,” he said. “There was not a dish that any one could eat—I consider it simply outrageous.”
Not one word did the man understand, for the Canon had spoken in English. The proprietor smiled and bowed most placidly, saying—“Je vous remercie mille fois, m'sieur—votre compliment est très distingué—très gracieux; je suis heureux—merci!”
He had too hastily assumed that the clergyman had offered him the usual congratulations upon his cuisine, and he had replied with more than his customary politeness, the visitor having shown himself to be much more enthusiastic than the ordinary run of people had time to be, considering that most of them were counting the moments until they should be in the Casino at Monte Carlo.
I did not know who the very frank clergyman was at that time; but four or five years later I recognised him at Broadminster.