Voyages and Travels of Count Funnibos and Baron Stilkin Part 15

"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 Bunck.u.m. "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 Bunck.u.m 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 Bunck.u.m, 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 Bunck.u.m. "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 Bunck.u.m. "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, st.u.r.dy 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 st.u.r.dy 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 Bunck.u.m, 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 st.u.r.dy 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 st.u.r.dy 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 st.u.r.dy 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 Bunck.u.m 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 Bunck.u.m.

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 Bunck.u.m in an authoritative tone.

"I know no more than the man in the moon. I parted from him when we read the notice that trespa.s.sers on this estate would be prosecuted; till then we did not know that we were trespa.s.sing, 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 n.o.ble, 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 Amba.s.sador of the way in which we distinguished foreigners have been treated."

"I will take the consequences," answered Mynheer Bunck.u.m; 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 st.u.r.dy 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 st.u.r.dy Frieslander and his companions.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

Mynheer Bunck.u.m's head butler or steward, a person who was looked upon with great respect on account of the embroidered coat he wore, was pa.s.sing, shortly after the events narrated in our last chapter, the ruined building in which the Count, unable to release himself, still lay concealed, when a groan reached his ear. Not being a believer in ghosts or goblins, on hearing it he exclaimed, "Oh, oh! that's a human voice; somebody must have tumbled down the well. Whoever that somebody is, I will get him out; but how that is to be done is the question." He hunted about till he discovered a hay-rake with a long handle. "This will serve me as a fis.h.i.+ng-rod, and I should not be surprised to find a fish at the end of it." The steward accordingly went to an opening in the wall just above the well; he plunged down the rake and quickly brought it up without anything at the end. "I must try again," he said, and he pa.s.sed it round the wall. "I have got something now," he exclaimed, and he began to haul away. "A heavy fish at all events," he cried out. Though a muscular man, as most Frieslanders are, he had a hard job to haul up the rake. At last, stooping down, his hand came in contact with the collar of a man's coat. He hauled and hauled away; his rake had caught in the hyacinthine locks of Count Funnibos, whose countenance of a cadaverous hue now came in sight.

"Ho, ho!" cried the steward. "Who are you, may I ask?"

The Count was too much exhausted and alarmed to make any answer, and even when the steward set him on his legs, he had to lean against the ivied wall to support himself.

"You are the person, I have a notion, who has been giving us all this trouble," said the steward, looking the Count in the face. "If so, come along with me, and my master, Mynheer Bunck.u.m, will know what to say to you."

"I had no intention of giving you or any one else any trouble," answered the Count, when he at last found words to express himself. "I am much obliged to you for pulling me out of that dreadful hole, and shall be still further obliged if you will brush my clothes, and then conduct me through these grounds so that I may return to my hotel, which I am anxious to reach this evening."

The steward on hearing this, instead of acceding to the Count's request, burst into a loud fit of laughter.

"Ho, ho, ho! Very likely indeed," he answered. "You must come along with me into the presence of Mynheer Bunck.u.m, and he will settle how to dispose of you."

"But I have no wish to see Mynheer Bunck.u.m," said the Count; "indeed, I have a decided objection to do so. He has allowed the most unjust suspicions to take possession of his mind."

"I care not a pin for your objections," said the steward. "Come along with me, I can waste no further time: come along, I say;" and the steward laying hold of the Count by one arm, and the collar of his coat with the other hand, walked him along the path towards the castle in the fas.h.i.+on policemen are wont to treat offenders in the streets of London.

The Count was too weak from hunger, alarm, and fatigue to offer any resistance, and allowed himself to be conducted in the direction the steward chose to go. They soon reached the castle; the steward, on inquiring for Mynheer Bunck.u.m, was informed that he had gone out with the fair daughters of Mynheer Van Arent.

"Then there is but one thing to be done," observed the steward. "We must lock up this stranger in the dungeon till our master returns.

Where are the keys?" They were quickly brought to him, and aided by the domestics of the establishment, he led the Count down a flight of stone steps to the dungeon.

"My friend," said the Count, who was beginning to recover, "this is very extraordinary treatment, but I presume you are acting under orders. I have a request to make. I am very hungry, and shall feel grateful if you will bring me some food; and, as I scarcely know otherwise how to pa.s.s the period of my incarceration, I shall be still further obliged if you will supply me with a violin, should you have such an instrument in the castle."

"Ho, ho, ho!" laughed the steward. "Then you are a strolling musician, as we have heard it reported. Well, we happen to have a violin, for I play it myself, and you shall be supplied with food, as I conclude Mynheer Bunck.u.m would not wish to starve you to death."

"Thank you, my good friend, I am much obliged to you for your promise; at the same time, I beg leave to remark that I am not a strolling musician, but am as I represent myself, Count Funnibos."

"That is neither here nor there," said the steward, "you shall have the food and you shall have the violin; now please go down those steps, and make yourself as much at home as you like."