English fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, English
"Pray, sir, was your interposition solicited?"
"Certainly not. But if this gentleman says he is Colonel Despard, I take
leave to contradict him."
"I should advise you to do nothing of the sort," said I. "M. Dumergue
knows me very well."
"This person," said the baron, "passed himself off as Colonel Despard,
and, by that pretext, obtained from me the honor of a duel with me. It
appears that he is a mere impostor."
The other man on the settee called out cheerfully, "Bob, send for the
police!"
Dumergue looked rather sheepish; his invention failed him.
"Do either or both of these gentlemen," said I, indicating the baron and
the colonel's brother-in-law, "call me an impostor?"
"I do," said the baron, with a sneering laugh.
"I am compelled to assert it," said the other, with a bow.
I had edged near the little table, on which the baron's coffee had been
served. I now took up the coffee-pot and milk-jug. The coffee I threw
in the baron's face, and the milk in that of his ally. Both men sprang
forward with an oath. At the same moment, the electric light went out,
and I was violently pulled back toward the door, and someone whispered,
"Vanish as quick as you can. Go home--go anywhere."
"All right, sir," said I, for I recognized the prince's voice. "But what
are they doing?"
"Never mind; be off." And the prince handed me a hat.
I walked quickly to the door, and hailed a hansom. As I drove off, I
saw the prince skip upstairs, and a _posse_ of waiters rush toward the
smoking room. I went home to bed.
The next morning, as I was breakfasting, my man told me two gentlemen
were below, and wished to see me. I told him to show them up, and the
prince and Dumergue came in, the former wrapped up in a fur coat, with
a collar that hid most of his face.
"The prince would like some brandy in a little soda water," said
Dumergue.
I administered the cordial. The prince drank it, and then turned to me.
"Did you get home all right?" he asked.
"Perfectly, sir."
"After you took leave of us, we had an explanation. Mr. Wetherington--it
was Mr. Wetherington at whom you threw the milk--was very reasonable. I
explained the whole matter, and he said he was sure his brother-in-law
would pardon the liberty."
"I'm afraid I took rather a liberty with him."
"Oh," said Dumergue, "we made him believe the milk was meant for
the baron, as well as the coffee. I said we took it _au lait_ at
Glottenberg."
"It's lucky I thought of turning out the light," said the prince. "I was
looking on, and it seemed about time."
"What did the hotel people say, sir?"
"They are going to sue the electric company," said the prince, with a
slight smile. "It seems there is a penalty if the light doesn't work
properly."
"And the baron, sir?"
"We kicked the baron out as a blackmailer," said Dumergue. "He is going
to bring an action."
"I return to Glottenberg to-day," concluded the prince; "accompanied by
the princess and M. Dumergue."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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