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Voyages and Travels of Count Funnibos and Baron Stilkin, a fiction by William H. G. Kingston |
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Chapter 13 |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTEEN. The day following the picnic on the Meer, the Count and the Baron set out to pay a visit to the Van Arent family. As yet, however, they could not tell whether the courteous treatment they had received was simply owing to their being strangers of rank. The Count fancied that his performances on the violin, and the Baron supposed that his fascinating powers of conversation, and other attractive qualities, had something to do with it. On reaching the house they were told that the ladies had gone to take a walk at some distance. "Perhaps we may meet them," said the Count to the Baron. They inquired of the servant in what direction the ladies had gone. He pointed to the northward, and they set out; they walked on and on till they arrived at a wood, such as is not often found in that part of the country, and they observed an ancient tower with battlements rising up amid the trees. "This looks like an interesting place," observed the Count, "let us explore it." "By all means," answered the Baron. And they walked on with that air of curiosity generally exhibited by strangers when arriving at a place worth seeing. "Fine trees and shady walks, really my castle scarcely exhibits anything finer; if I marry the fair Isabelle, it's just the sort of place I should like to possess; but we may pay it a hurried visit," said the Count. "Then it is the Vrouw Isabelle on whom your regards are fixed?" observed the Baron. "It was but a slip of my tongue," said the Count. "I did not intend to betray my secret." "All right, my dear Count; to say the truth, my heart has been captivated by the Vrouw Margaret, so that we shall not be rivals." "That is a fortunate circumstance," observed the Count, in a somewhat supercilious tone. "However, you must remember that we, both of us, have to ascertain the feelings of the ladies; at present we are left somewhat in the dark on that subject." "I cannot say that I think so," answered the Baron, drawing up his shirt-collar. "I flatter myself that the Vrouw Margaret regards me with peculiar distinction." "Did I possess more vanity in this case, I might have said the same with regard to Vrouw Isabelle," said the Count. "You do, do you!" exclaimed a voice from among the bushes, which made the Count and the Baron start. "Who could that have been?" exclaimed the Count. "Where did it come from?" cried the Baron. "Let us try to discover the eavesdropper," said the Count. "We had better not," whispered the Baron. "Depend upon it the person, whoever he is, is prepared for us. We had better move on, and not in future talk so loudly of our private affairs." "Your advice is good," said the Count; "we will follow it." And they moved on a short distance, paying much less attention than before to the beauties of the scenery. They had just reached the neighbourhood of what appeared to be an old summer-house, now neglected and disused, for it was thickly overgrown with ivy and various creepers. Looking up close to it they observed a board, on which was painted in large letters, "Whoever is found trespassing in these grounds will be punished with the utmost rigour of the law." Scarcely had they read this unpleasant announcement, when they observed at the farther end of the walk a party of men, who from their costume were evidently huntsmen or gamekeepers, led by a person whom they recognised at a glance as Mynheer Bunckum, their jealous rival. "There are the robbers! There are the impostors! There are those thieves and vagabonds, who have come here pretending to be noblemen travelling for their pleasure. On! on! seize them, my men! treat them with no ceremony." Mynheer Bunckum, though he shouted, did not move himself, and his followers appeared to hesitate for a few moments. This gave time to the Count and Baron to retreat behind the summer-house. "Come along, Count, we must trust to our legs to escape from these fellows," cried the Baron, and he set off running as fast as he could go. "Stop! stop!" cried the Count. "You will be seen to a certainty and overtaken; come in here, I perceive an opening, and we shall be able to lie hid, while our jealous rival passes by." The Baron, however, did not hear him, but still rushed on. "I shall be seen if I attempt to run," thought the Count. Without more ado he slipped through an opening in the side of the wall, in his hurry forgetting to feel his way. He had made but a few steps when, to his dismay, he found himself descending, and fully believed that he was about to be precipitated down a well. Greatly to his relief he reached the bottom sooner than he had expected. "Here, at all events, I shall be secure while our jealous rival and his men are hunting about for me; but I am afraid the Baron has very little chance of escaping. I might have got into rather a pleasanter place; it is somewhat damp; I hear the frogs croaking, and feel the slippery efts and other creatures crawling about. I only hope that there are no venomous snakes; but, by the by, how am I ever to get out again? We should have acted more wisely had we walked up boldly to Mynheer Bunckum, and apologising for having entered his grounds, wished him good morning. It is entirely owing to the Baron's cowardice that I am placed in this very unpleasant position." Such were the thoughts which passed through the Count's mind, for he did not speak them aloud. He heard the voices of Mynheer Bunckum and his men, as they searched round and round the building, but none of them looked into the well, or if they did, failed to discover him. At length, to his great relief, their voices grew less and less distinct, and he was satisfied that they were moving on. "At all events this delay will have enabled the Baron to make his escape, and I hope that by and by, when these people have given up the search, I shall be able to rejoin him," he thought. Meantime the Baron had continued his course. Not being much accustomed to running, he soon began to puff and blow, and wish that he could find some place in which to hide himself, and recover his wind. Instead of taking the direct path along which he and the Count had come, rightly suspecting that if he did so he should quickly be observed, he turned aside to a wilder part of the wood; he stopped every now and then to try and recover his breath, and to ascertain if the Count was following. Having no landmark to direct him, he completely lost himself, and became very uncertain whether he was making his way out of the wood, or only getting further into it. "It was very selfish and unmannerly in Count Funnibos not to accompany me," he said to himself. "We might have helped each other out of this difficulty; and, indeed, at any moment Mynheer Bunckum and his myrmidons may overtake me, and in the vicious mood they are in, I do not know how I shall be treated. Ah! there I see a large hollow tree. Yes, there is an opening at the bottom, I will creep in and try to conceal myself within the stem till the hue and cry is over." Suiting the action to the word, the Baron knelt down, and was about to crawl into the opening when he saw a movement of the bushes at a little distance off, and presently a head popped up above them. "I hope that I was not observed," he thought, and he quickly crawled in at the hole, unfortunately, as he did so, knocking off his hat, which rolled away on one side; he dared not crawl out again to look for it, and could only hope that it would be concealed by the tall grass and underwood which grew around. The Baron stood trembling and quaking in his boots, every moment expecting to be discovered, while he felt sure that the face of which he had caught a glimpse was no other than that of the jealous rival. He listened anxiously; he could hear the cracking of the boughs, and then the sound of footsteps approaching. Nearer and nearer drew the footsteps; presently he heard an exclamation of surprise. "Why, this is the hat of one of them," said a voice. "Yes; it is that of the fat, ridiculous little man who pretended to be a Baron," answered a female voice. Was it possible? Yes, the Baron felt sure that the voice was that of the fair Vrouw Margaret on whom he had placed his affections. "Little doubt whose hat it is," observed the first speaker. "Very likely his pockets are even now full of your father's and Mynheer Baskerville's plate. What shall we do with him if we catch him?" "I must leave him to your tender mercies," said Vrouw Margaret. "As he deceived us so grossly I cannot plead for him. Punish him as you think fit, and then let him go, if he will promise not to come near our house again." "We have not caught him yet, though," observed Mynheer Bunckum. "But here come my men, and we'll make a thorough search in the neighbourhood." The Baron at this trembled more and more; while Mynheer Bunckum and Vrouw Margaret were speaking he heard several other persons approaching, who had, he judged by the remarks they let fall, been searching in vain for the Count. No one seemed to remark the hole in the tree; indeed, probably judging by the Baron's figure, they did not suppose that he could have crawled into it. "The chances are the two went off together," remarked one of the keepers, "and by this time they are well out of the park." "But what about this head-piece?" said Mynheer Bunckum, holding up the Baron's hat. "He may have dropped it in his flight," said the keeper. "If that is the case, we ought to be still pursuing them," said Mynheer Bunckum. "On, my men, and bring them back to me dead or alive! Come, Vrouw Margaret, we will continue our ramble; really, it is scarcely worth while to take so much trouble about the capture of these contemptible people, were it not to recover your father's and Mynheer Baskerville's plate." They had gone but a short distance when they observed one of the keepers returning. "I must hurry on the others," said Mynheer Bunckum. "Stay but a moment, my fair Vrouw, and I will return to you," he said, and hastened away. Just then a shout fell on the ear of Vrouw Margaret, and she made her way in the direction from which it proceeded, when looking over the bushes she caught sight of the keeper dragging on the unfortunate Baron by the collar of his coat. The keeper was a knowing fellow, a strong, sturdy Frieslander. Suddenly it struck him that the Baron, in spite of his rotund figure, might have crept into the hole at the bottom of the old oak; and as the Baron's hat had been found near it, he divined, and truly, that it had been knocked off while the Baron was creeping in. He accordingly had gone back for the purpose of ascertaining whether his suspicions were correct. Putting in his hand, he felt one leg, then he felt another. The Baron in vain tried to draw them up out of the way; the sturdy Frieslander hauled and hauled much in the same way as he would have pulled a snake out of its hole, and dragged the hapless Baron out of the hollow tree. "I have got you, Mynheer, have I?" he said, looking at the Baron's pale countenance. "Why did you hide? Honest men do not try to conceal themselves. Come along, and answer for yourself to Mynheer Bunckum, and tell us what has become of your companion." The Baron was too much alarmed to reply or to offer any resistance; indeed, in the grasp of the sturdy Frieslander it would have been useless, so like a lamb he accompanied his captor. Suddenly, however, he saw a fair face looking over the bushes--it was that of the Vrouw Margaret. The sight aroused all the manhood within him; he knew himself to be innocent, he knew that the treatment he was receiving was owing to the ill-feeling of a jealous rival. He determined to show that he would not submit tamely to be ill-treated, and suddenly starting forward he endeavoured to free himself from the grasp of his captor. A fatal resolution--the Frieslander in a moment tripped up his heels, and down he fell with his face on the ground, while the Frieslander knelt over him exclaiming-- "You will escape me, will you! you are mistaken, Mynheer;" and, his anger aroused, seizing the Baron by the hair, he rubbed his face in the muddy ground. In vain the Baron tried to free himself, in vain he tried to cry out; the moment he opened his mouth, down went his face again into the mud till he was well-nigh suffocated. "Will not you, Vrouw Margaret, have pity on me? Will you not interfere to save me from this cruel indignity?" he exclaimed, but the Vrouw Margaret calmly watched the proceedings of the sturdy Frieslander as if she highly approved of them. "Will you go along quietly?" asked the Frieslander, after he had subjected the Baron for some minutes to this disagreeable treatment. "Say 'yes,' or 'no;' for, if you say 'no,' be prepared for another mouthful of mud." "Yes, yes; I will go!" cried the Baron, the conduct of the fair Vrouw cutting him to the heart. "Well, then, I will let you get up; but remember, the instant you attempt to release yourself, down you go again, and perhaps in a less pleasant place than the last." Saying this the sturdy Frieslander placed the Baron on his legs. "Come, you must wash the mud off your face in yonder pool," said the Frieslander, "for you look more ridiculous than you can well imagine." The Baron accepted his captor's offer, for not only his mouth and nostrils, but his very eyes were filled with mud. "Come, you look a little less ridiculous now," said the Frieslander with a taunting laugh, as he led the Baron past the spot where, Vrouw Margaret was standing. In vain the Baron stretched out his hands and entreated her to plead for him, but she turned aside her head, and his captor dragged him along till they met Mynheer Bunckum and the rest of his men. "I have got one of them!" cried the Frieslander. "What is to be done with him? I have not yet examined his pockets, so cannot say whether the stolen plate is in them." "We will soon ascertain that," said Mynheer Bunckum. The unfortunate Baron Stilkin was subjected to the indignity of being searched. Only such ordinary things as a gentleman carries about with him were discovered in the Baron's pockets, but certainly no silver forks or spoons. "And where is your companion?" asked Mynheer Bunckum in an authoritative tone. "I know no more than the man in the moon. I parted from him when we read the notice that trespassers on this estate would be prosecuted; till then we did not know that we were trespassing, but on discovering that such was the case, we were retiring when, your shouts alarming us, we proceeded farther than we should otherwise have done." "Then you say you know nothing about the so-called Count Funnibos?" "I know nothing about the real Count Funnibos, for real he is, as I am a real Baron!" cried the ill-treated noble, his spirits rising once more. "I conclude that he is by this time out of these grounds, and on his way to the inn where we are residing; and I must beg you to understand, Mynheer, that we shall forthwith proceed to the Hague, and lay a formal complaint before our Ambassador of the way in which we distinguished foreigners have been treated." "I will take the consequences," answered Mynheer Bunckum; and turning to his servants, he said, "We have no evidence against the man; conduct him to the confines of the estate, and with such kicks as you feel disposed to bestow, let him go his way." "I protest, I loudly protest against this treatment!" cried the Baron. But the sturdy Frieslander with his companions, utterly regardless of all the Baron could say, dragged him along till they reached the outskirts of the estate, when, placing him before them, they bade him run for his life, which to the best of his power he endeavoured to do to save himself from the kicks they had threatened to bestow. On he ran, not once looking behind him, followed by the derisive laughter of the sturdy Frieslander and his companions. _ |
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