And Mr. Timm lighted another cigar, unlocked the door, bent over his drawing-board, and worked with a zeal as if he had no other plans and knew nothing else in the world but the simple duty of a first-class surveyor.
CHAPTER VI.
Baron Felix had arrived--in the middle of the night. He had left the ferry early in his own carriage, when his valet suddenly remembered that his master's dressing-case might not be with the rest of the luggage, as he had placed it on board the boat between his feet and probably left it there. A timid suggestion to that end--terrible indignation on the part of Baron Felix, threats of boxes on the ear, beatings and dismissal--a thorough search in the middle of the road--finally return, as the corpus delicti was really missing. The ferry-boat, however, had unfortunately gone back in the mean time, and with it the precious box. Several hours had to pass before it would return, for the wind had lulled, and the men had to pull desperately with their heavy oars. Baron Felix watched them through his pocket telescope and became furious. At last, when the evening had come, the baron could start a second time, this time with the dressing-case. He was in a terrible state of mind. He had promised to arrive in Grenwitz early that day, as he could not await the moment to see his fair cousin. The delay might be interpreted unfavorably, and it was better, therefore, to arrive at night than not at all. On the other hand, it suited the taste of the ex-lieutenant by no means to travel by night through the forest and over damp moors, especially in an open carnage. He suffered--probably in consequence of indescribable exertions on the parade ground and at drill of rheumatism, and feared a cold like the plague. He chose, therefore, the least of two evils, and only threatened Jean, his valet, to make his punishment on the next morning depend on the nature of his cold.
It was therefore a matter of great rejoicing to Jean when his master awoke next day in very good humor. They had tried to disturb the sleepers at the château as little as possible, and had quietly taken possession of the long-prepared rooms, with the aid of one of the more wakeful servants. Baron Felix ordered his cacao to be brought to his bed, and when he was dressed--he did very little of it himself--he sent Jean to ask Mr. Timm to come and see him for a few minutes in his room. For Albert's presence had been one of the first things he learnt when inquiring about the state of things at the château.
"Ah voilà, dear Timm, how do you do?" said Baron Felix, emphasizing the last word in a peculiar manner, when Mr. Timm entered. "Pardon me for troubling you so early; but I--why on earth has the donkey brought me hot water again instead of warm water?--excuse me--Jean, warm water, rhinoceros!--now tell me how are you, Timm? Glad to meet you here by accident. How do you do?" and the baron held out one of the fingers of the left hand, which he had just been drying.
"Thank you, baron, tolerably!" said Albert, touching the proffered finger very lightly with two fingers of his own hand, for it was not one of Albert's foibles to let himself be overawed by haughty insolence--"I really thought you would have forgotten me and my name."
"Oh no!" said Felix, "I thought of it directly this morning, when Jean counted out the company.--But how divine you look in citizen's dress! ha, ha, ha! if our comrades could see you! really divine! upon honor!" and Felix, a hair-brush in one hand and a small looking-glass in the other, remained standing before Albert, and stared at him from head to foot as if he were examining an animal from foreign lands.
"Do you think so?" asked Albert, dryly; "glad of it. Am sorry cannot return the compliment. This much I can tell you, however--you don't look any younger. Have you another cigar? or is the Havana you are smoking the last of the Mohicans?"
"There, on the table," said Felix, "in the ebony box--press the spring down--not younger? but I hope not older, I mean perceptibly--at least you see I still enjoy all my teeth, and five-sixths of my hair," and Felix brushed with infinite satisfaction the very pretty crisp curls which covered his well-shaped head in surprising abundance.
"Well, the hair is tolerably fair," said Albert, pitilessly; he had taken a seat on the sofa and examined Felix, as he stood before the long mirror, with great delight; "but what has given you all those wrinkles in your face? The bright morning light is really not good for you any more. Formerly I used to compliment you on your likeness to Byron; but now you are more like Byron's father. And then--you never were particularly stout, but now you are really reduced to a minimum."