"We can smoke her out, sir," said Britton.
I could scarcely believe my ears.
"Britton," said I severely, "you are a brute. I am surprised. You forget there is an innocent babe—maybe a collection of them—over there. And a dog. We shan't do anything heathenish, Britton. Please bear that in mind. There is but one way: we must storm the place. I will not be defied to my very nose."
I felt it to see if it was not a little out of joint. "It is a good nose."
"It is, sir," said Britton, and Poopendyke, in a perfect ecstasy of loyalty, shouted: "Long live your nose, sir!"
My German vassals waved their hats, perceiving that a demonstration was required without in the least knowing what it was about.
"To-night we'll plan our campaign," said I, and then returned in some haste to my balcony. The mists of the waning day were rising from the valley below. The smell of rain was in the air. I looked in vain for the lady's tresses. They were gone. The sun was also gone. His work for the day was done. I wondered whether she was putting up her hair with her own fair hands or was there a lady's maid in her menage.
Poopendyke and I dined in solemn grandeur in the great banquet hall, attended by the clumsy Max.
"Mr. Poopendyke," said I, after Max had passed me the fish for the second time on my right side—and both times across my shoulder,—"we must engage a butler and a footman to-morrow. Likewise a chef. This is too much."
"Might I suggest that we also engage a chambermaid? The beds are very poorly—"