I flung myself upon the soft bed, and settled myself to sleep,—and as I dozed off, I still heard the rumble of heavy thunder in the distance. Once I fancied I heard the prince’s voice calling “Amiel! Amiel!” with a wildness resembling the shriek of an angry wind,—and at another moment I started violently from a profound slumber under the impression that someone had approached and was looking fixedly at me. I sat up in bed, peering into the darkness, for the fire had gone out;—then I turned on a small electric night-lamp at my side which fully illumined the room,—there was no one there. Yet my imagination played me such tricks before I could rest again that I thought I heard a hissing whisper near me that said—
“Peace! Trouble him not. Let the fool in his folly sleep!”
[p 43]
V
The next morning on rising I learned that ‘his excellency’ as Prince Rimânez was called by his own servants and the employés of the ‘Grand,’ had gone out riding in the Park, leaving me to breakfast alone. I therefore took that meal in the public room of the hotel, where I was waited upon with the utmost obsequiousness, in spite of my shabby clothes, which I was of course still compelled to wear, having no change. When would I be pleased to lunch? At what hour would I dine? Should my present apartment be retained?—or was it not satisfactory? Would I prefer a ‘suite’ similar to that occupied by his excellency? All these deferential questions first astonished and then amused me,—some mysterious agency had evidently conveyed the rumour of my wealth among those best fitted to receive it, and here was the first result. In reply I said my movements were uncertain,—I should be able to give definite instructions in the course of a few hours, and that in the meantime I retained my room. The breakfast over I sallied forth to go to my lawyers, and was just about to order a hansom when I saw my new friend coming back from his ride. He bestrode a magnificent chestnut mare, whose wild eyes and strained quivering limbs showed she was fresh from a hard gallop and was scarcely yet satisfied to be under close control. She curveted and danced among the carts and cabs in a somewhat risky fashion, but she had her master in Rimânez, who if he had looked handsome by night looked still more so by day, with a [p 44] slight colour warming the natural pallor of his complexion and his eyes sparkling with all the zest of exercise and enjoyment. I waited for his approach, as did also Amiel, who as usual timed his appearance in the hotel corridor in exact accordance with the moment of his master’s arrival. Rimânez smiled as he caught sight of me, touching his hat with the handle of his whip by way of salutation.
“You slept late, Tempest”—he said, as he dismounted and threw the reins to a groom who had cantered up after him,—“To-morrow
you must come with me and join what they call in fashionable slang parlance the Liver Brigade. Once upon a time it was considered the height of indelicacy and low breeding to mention the ‘liver’ or any other portion of one’s internal machinery,—but we have done with all that now, and we find a peculiar satisfaction in discoursing of disease and unsavoury medical matters generally. And in the Liver Brigade you see at a glance all those interesting fellows who have sold themselves to the devil for the sake of the flesh-pots of Egypt,—men who eat till they are well-nigh bursting, and then prance up and down on good horses,—much too respectable beasts by the way to bear such bestial burdens—in the hope of getting out of their poisoned blood the evil they have themselves put in. They think me one of them, but I am not.”
He patted his mare and the groom led her away, the foam of her hard ride still flecking her glossy chest and forelegs.
“Why do you join the procession then?” I asked him, laughing and glancing at him with undisguised approval as I spoke, for he seemed more admirably built than ever in his well-fitting riding gear—“You are a fraud!”
“I am!” he responded lightly—“And do you know I am not the only one in London! Where are you off to?”