“Brave, gallant men,” he cried; “you have come to share adventures stupendous, miraculous, which you will enjoy! I lead you, my good Britannic sportsmen, whither or why obviously can be seen, to establish the anointed and legal King in his right country! To die successfully is glorious! But you will not; you will live forever conquering, and gratefully recollected in France!
“You” [here he waved his hand towards the astonished baronet] “will enjoy drink of all beers and spirits that an English proverbially adores ever after and always! Also you” [here he indicated the dumfounded bishop] “will enjoy women, the most lively and sporting in the wide world, always and ever after! Also you” [pointing towards the substantial form of Mr. Alderman Guffin] “shall bask and revel in the land of song, of music, of light fantastic toes, amid all which once and more having been never stopping again bravo and hip, hip, my sportsmen! Once, twice, thrice, follow me to victor!”
He stopped and looked eagerly for the fruits of this appeal, and his Britannic sportsmen returned his gaze with interest. I am free to confess that long before this my two companions and I had shrunk from publicity behind the door of the van, awaiting a more fitting moment to greet our friends.
“Is this a dashed asylum, or a dashed nightmare?” demanded Sir Henry.
Not quite comprehending this, but seeing that these recruits displayed no great alacrity, the Marquis again raised his voice and cried:
“Are you afraid, brave garçons?”
But now an unexpected light was thrown on their captors.
“Kate!” exclaimed General Sholto in a bewildered voice.
That the unfortunate General should have his domestic drama played in public was more than I could bear. I stepped forward, and I may honestly say that I effectually distracted attention. It was not a pleasant process, even when assisted by the explanations of Teddy to his father and the loyal assurances of Dick; but it at least cleared the air. As for the unfortunate Marquis, his chagrin was so evident that, diabolically unpleasant as he had made my own position, I could not but feel sorry for him.
“And so,” he said to me, sadly, “Heaven has been unkind to me again. I acted for the best, my dear d'Haricot, believe me! But I fear I do not excel so much in carrying out details as in conceiving plans. I see, it was my fault! I allowed these gentlemen to enter that house by the wrong door. Well, if they will not follow us—and I fear they are reluctant, though I do not understand all they say—we three must go alone!”