In about five minutes the waiter opened the door, and announced Count Shucksen.
“Now, O’Brien, you’ll be puzzled,” said I; and in came the count.
“My dear Lord Privilege,” said he, coming up and taking me by the hand, “let me not be the last to congratulate you upon your accession. I was running up the channel in my frigate, when a pilot-boat gave me the newspaper, in which I saw your unexpected change of circumstances. I made an excuse for dropping my anchor at Spithead this morning, and I have come up post to express how sincerely I participate in your good fortune.” Count Shucksen then politely saluted the ladies and the general, and turned round to O’Brien, who had been staring at him with astonishment.
“Count Shucksen, allow me to introduce Sir Terence O’Brien.”
“By the piper that played before Moses, but it’s a puzzle,” said O’Brien, earnestly looking in the count’s face. “Blood and thunder! if it a’n’t Chucks!—my dear fellow, when did you rise from your grave?”
“Fortunately,” replied the count, as they shook each other’s hands for some time, “I never went into it, Sir Terence. But now, with your permission, my lord, I’ll take some food, as I really am not a little hungry. After dinner, Captain O’Brien, you shall hear my history.”
His secret was confided to the whole party, upon my pledging myself for their keeping it locked up in their own breasts, which was a bold thing on my part, considering that two of them were ladies.
The count stayed with us for some time, and was introduced by me everywhere. It was impossible to discover that he had not been bred up in a court, his manners were so good. He was a great favourite with the ladies; and his mustachios, bad French, and waltzing—an accomplishment he had picked up in Sweden—were quite the vogue. All the ladies were sorry when the Swedish count announced his departure by a PPC.
Before I left town, I called upon the First Lord of the Admiralty, and procured for Swinburne a first-rate, building—that is to say, ordered to be built. This he had often said he wished, as he was tired of the sea, after a service of forty-five years. Subsequently, I obtained leave of absence for him every year; and he used to make himself very happy at Eagle Park. Most of his time was, however, passed on the lake, either fishing or rowing about; telling long stories to all who would join him in his water excursions.
A fortnight after my assuming my title, we set off for Eagle Park: and Celeste consented to my entreaties, that the wedding should take place that day month. Upon this hint O’Brien spake; and to oblige me, Ellen consented that we should be united on the same day.