CHAPTER XVII
IN WHICH CAPTAIN ROGER EGREMONT ACTS AS COACHMAN, AND LIEUTENANT-GENERAL THE DUKE OF BERWICK AS FOOTMAN
THAT night, returning to their lodgings, Berwick said to Roger: “One week must do our errand here, for we have but a week in which to consider the apology you are to make to the Prince.”
“Only a week,” said Roger, reflectively; “I am not nimble enough of wit to think out a suitable apology in one little week—and that I shall tell him.”
“So I supposed.”
Next morning brought Count Bernstein, very early, to the joint lodging of Berwick and Roger.
“My dear sir,” he said, debonairly, when Roger appeared in answer to the Count’s name. “I come from Sir Hugo Egremont, your half-brother. Naturally, he is annoyed at your behavior yesterday, but he considers that you are—pardon me—a man of impetuous temper, and will make allowances. If you will deliver to me the jewelled handle of the sword, which, in your—your excitement last night, you wrenched from his person, he will overlook all else. I am authorized to receipt for the handle.”
“My dear Bernstein,” replied Roger, in the friendliest way possible, “you have been grossly imposed upon. There is no such person as Sir Hugo Egremont. He who assumes that name and the arms of Egremont is a bastard, by name Hugo Stein. My father was his father—and a great sinner my father was.”
Bernstein made a gesture of impatience.
“And,” continued Roger, as Berwick entered the room then and gravely saluted Bernstein, “I can call the Duke of Berwick to witness that I was up at sunrise this morning, hammering the jewels, which are mostly heirlooms in my family, out of Hugo Stein’s sword-hilt. I have them here in a little box in my bosom, and the fragments of gold I saved carefully and will thank you to return to Hugo Stein with my compliments.”
And he thrust a little parcel into Bernstein’s hands.