The Baron could no longer contain himself.

“Himmel!  Hurray!  My dear friend, I vill go mit you to hell!”

“That’s very good of you,” said Essington, “but you mistake my present destination.  I merely wish your company as far as the Castle of Hechnahoul.”

“I gom mit so moch pleasure zat I cannot eggspress!  Tollyvoddle, be no longer afraid.  I have helped to write a book on ze noble families of Germany—­zat is to say, I have contributed my portrait and some anecdote.  Our dear friend shall make no mistakes!”

By this guarantee Lord Tulliwuddle’s last doubts were completely set at rest.  His spirits rose as he perceived how happily this easy avenue would lead him out of all his troubles.  He insisted on calling for wine and pledging success to the adventure with the most resolute and confident air, and nothing but a few details remained now to be settled.  These were chiefly with regard to the precise limits up to which the duplicate Lord Tulliwuddle might advance his conquering arms.

“You won’t formally propose, will you?” said the first edition of that peer.

“Certainly not, if you prefer to negotiate the surrender yourself,” the later impression assured him.

“And you mustn’t—­well—­er——­”

“I shall touch nothing.”

“A girl might get carried away by you,” said the original peer a trifle doubtfully.

“The Baron is the most scrupulous of men.  He will be by my side almost continually.  Baron, you will act as my judge, my censor, and my chaperon?”

“Tollyvoddle, I swear to you zat I shall use an eye like ze eagle.  He shall be so careful—­ach, I shall see to it!  Myself, I am a Bayard mit ze ladies, and Bonker he shall not be less so!”

“Thanks, Baron, thanks awfully,” said his lordship.  “Now my mind is quite at rest!”

In the vestibule of the restaurant they bade good-night to the confiding nobleman, and then turned to one another with an adventurer’s smile.

“You are sure you can leave your diplomatic duties?” asked Essington.

“Zey vill be my diplomatic duties zat I go to do!  Oh, I shall prepare a leetle story—­do not fear me.”

The Baron chuckled, and then burst forth

“Never was zere a man like you.  Oh, cunning Mistair Bonker!  And you vill give me zomezing to do in ze adventure, eh?”

“I promise you that, Baron.”

As he gave this reassuring pledge, a peculiar smile stole over Mr. Bunker’s face—­a smile that seemed to suggest even happier possibilities than either of his distinguished friends contemplated.

CHAPTER V

It is at all times pleasant to contemplate thorough workmanship and sagacious foresight, particularly when these are allied with disinterested purpose and genuine enthusiasm.  For the next few days Mr. Bunker, preparing to carry out to the best of his ability the delicate commission with which he had been entrusted, presented this stimulating spectacle.