I calmed Teddy with the assurance all was going on perfectly well, and that he had only to keep calm to do himself and his militia training full justice.
“Hang it all!” I said to him, “you are as nearly as possible a British officer; do, for goodness’ sake, try and behave like one.”
But he never did, from first to last; and for that, painful as it is, I feel myself obliged publicly to censure him here, in print.
CHAPTER XVIII
EXIT MR. BAILEY THOMPSON
Friday dawned, blue and auspicious, and soon after twelve Brentin and I called at his hotel to conduct the luckless Thompson on board the Saratoga. We had matured our little plan, and as we went down the hill to the Condamine we began to put it in motion.
In this wise. Brentin suddenly pulled up short, saying: “Sakes alive! I have forgotten to telegraph to the hotel at Venice to secure our rooms. Mr. Blacker, will you conduct our friend to the boat, and I will join you?”
I went on with Thompson to the boat lying ready for us, and there we waited. Then at the top of the hill appeared Brentin, as per arrangement, outside the telegraph office, making weird signals with his arms.
“What on earth is he doing?” I innocently asked.
“He apparently wants you,” replied the unsuspicious Thompson; “perhaps he has forgotten the name of the hotel.”