When he had got rid of Richmond, who begged that he would teach him how to arrange a tie as he did—for which an hour was appointed—he determined, at all hazards, to speak. He had a cigar in his pocket, and though to smoke in the morning was pain and grief to him, he determined to ask for a match, and started. He was stopped by Baron, whose thoughts being much with the little vices of man, anticipated his wishes and offered him a light. In despair Hagar took it, and asked if he chanced to know who the stranger was. Baron did know, assuring Hagar that he sat on the gentleman's right at the same table in his hotel, and was qualified to introduce him. Before they started he told the artist of the occurrence of the evening before, and further assured him of the graces of Miss Mildred Margrave. "A pearl," he said, "not to be reckoned by loads of ivory, nor jolly bricks of gold, nor caravans of Arab steeds, nor—come and have dinner with me to-night, and you shall see. There, what do you say?"
Hagar, who loved the man's unique and spontaneous character as only an artist can love a subject in which he sees royal possibilities, consented gladly, and dropped a cordial hand on the other's shoulder. The hand was dragged down and wrenched back and forth with a sturdy clasp, in time to a roll of round, unctuous laughter. Then Baron took him up hurriedly, and introduced him to Telford with the words: "You two ought to know each other. Telford, traveler, officer of the Hudson's Bay company, et cetera; Hagar, artist, good fellow, et cetera."
Then he drew back and smiled as the two men, not shaking hands as he expected, bowed, and said they were happy to meet. The talk began with the remark by Hagar on the panorama below them, "that the thing was amusing if not seen too often, but the eternal paddling round the band stand was too much like marionettes."
"You prefer a Punch and Judy to marionettes?" asked Telford.
"Yes, you get a human element in a Punch and Judy tragedy. Besides, it has surprises, according to the idiosyncrasy of the man in the greenroom." He smiled immediately, remembering that his last words plagiarized Mr. Alpheus Richmond.
"I never miss a Punch and Judy if I'm near it," said Telford. "I enjoy the sardonic humor with which Punch hustles off his victims. His light-heartedness when doing bloody deeds is the true temper."
"That is, if it must be done, to do it with a grin is—"
"Is the most absolute tragedy."
Hagar was astonished, for even the trader's information that Telford spoke excellent French, and had certainly been a deal on red carpet in his time, did not prepare him for the sharply incisive words just uttered. Yet it was not incongruous with. Telford's appearance—not even with the red sash peeping at the edge of his waistcoat.
They came down among the promenaders, and Baron being accosted by some one, he left the two together, exacting anew the promise from Hagar regarding dinner.