“H'm!” exclaimed Mungo dryly, as one who has a sense of being flattered too obviously. “The Baron's a bairn, like a' true gentlemen I've seen, and he kens me lang enough and likes me weel enough to mak' nae secret o' what it were to a'body's advantage should be nae secret to Mungo Byde. In this place I'm sentinel, spy, and garrison; it wad ill become the officer in command to let me be doin' my wark withoot some clew to the maist important pairt o't. Ye're here on a search for ane Drimdarroch.”
“You are a wizard, Monsieur Mungo!” cried Montaiglon, not without chagrin at Doom's handing over so vast and vital a secret to a menial.
“Ay, and ye might think it droll that I should ken that; But I be't to ken it, for there's mony a plot against my maister, and nae foreigneer comes inside thae wa's whase pedigree I canna' hae an inklin' o'. Ye're here aifter Drimdarroch, and ye're no' very sure aboot your host, and that's the last thing I wad haggle wi' ye aboot, for your error'll come to ye by-and-by.”
Count Victor waved a deprecating hand.
“Oh, I ken a' aboot what mak's ye sae suspicious,” went on Mungo, undisturbed, “and it's a thing I could mak' clear to ye in a quarter-hour's crack if I had his leave. Tak' my word for't, there's no' a better man wi' his feet in brogues this day than the Baron o' Doom. He should be searchin' the warld wi' the sword o' his faithers (and the same he can use), but the damned thing is the warld for him doesna gang by the snout o' Cowal and the pass o' Glencroe. He had a wife ance; she's dead and buried in Kilmorich; noo he's doited on his hame and his dochter—”
“The charming Olivia!” cried Count Victor, thinking in one detail at all events to surprise this little custodian of all the secrets.
“Ye met her last night,” said Mungo, calmly, seeming to enjoy the rapidity with which his proofs of omniscience could be put forth. “That's half the secret. Ye were daunderin' aboot the lobby wi' thae fine French manners I hae heard o'—frae the French theirsels—and wha' wad blame ye in a hoose like this? And ye're early up the day, but the lass was up earlier to tell me o' your meeting. She had to come to me before Annapla was aboot, for Annapla's no' in this part o' the ploy at all.”
“I protest I have no head for charades,” said Count Victor, with a gesture of bewilderment. “I do not know what you mean.”
Mungo chuckled with huge satisfaction.
“Man, it's as plain's parridge! There's a gentleman in the toon down by that's a hot wooer, and daddy's for nane o' his kind roon' Doom; d'ye tak' me?”