He shook his host heartily by the hand as he spoke, and Mr. Gallosh, to his subsequent perplexity, found the interview apparently at a satisfactory conclusion.

“And now,” said the Count to himself, " ‘Bolt!’ is the word.”

As he set about his packing in the half-hour that yet remained before luncheon, he was surprised to note that his friend had evidently left no orders yet concerning any preparations for his departure.

“Confound him!  I thought he had made up his mind last night!  Ah, there he comes—­and singing, too, by Jingo!  If he wants another day’s dalliance——­”

At this point his reflections were interrupted by the entrance of the jovial Baron himself.  He stopped and stared at his friend.

“Vat for do you pack up?”

“Because we leave this afternoon.”

“Ach, Bonker, absurd!  To-morrow—­yes, to-morrow ve vill leave.”

Bunker folded his arms and looked at him seriously.

“I have had two interviews this morning—­one with Mr. Maddison, the other with Mr. Gallosh.  They were neither of them pleased with you, Baron.”

“Not pleased?  Vat did zey say?”

Depicting the ire of these gentlemen in the most vivid terms, the Count gave him a summary of his morning’s labors.

“Pooh, pooh!  Tuts, tuts!” exclaimed the Baron.  “I vill make zat all right; never do you fear.  Eva, she does smile on me already.  Eleanor, she vill also ven I see her.  Leave it to me.”

“You won’t go to-day?”

“To-morrow, Bonker, I swear I vill for certain!”

Bonker pondered.

“Hang it!” he exclaimed.  “The worst of it is, I’ve pledged myself to go upon a visit.”

The Baron listened to the tale of his incipient romance with the greatest relish.

“Bot go, my friend!  Bot go!” he cried, “and zen come back here to-morrow and ve vill leave togezzer.”

“Leave you alone, with the barometer falling and the storm-cone hoisted?  I don’t like to, Baron.”

“Bot to leave zat leetle girl—­eh, Bonker?  How is zat?”

“Was ever a man so torn between two duties!” exclaimed the conscientious Count.

“Ladies come first!” quoth the Baron.

Bunker was obviously strongly tending to this opinion also.

“Can I trust you to guide your own destinies without me?”

The Baron drew himself up with a touch of indignation.

“Am I a child or a fool?  I have guided mine destiny vary vell so far, and I zink I can still so do.  Ven vill you go to see Miss Wallingford?”

“I’ll hire a trap from the village after lunch and be off about four,” said the Count.  “Long live the ladies!  Learn wisdom by my example!  Will this tie conquer her, do you think?”