"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 ?" In this befitting spirit he drove off that afternoon, and the Baron, after waving his adieus from the door, strode brimful of confidence towards the drawing-room.

His thoughts must have gone astray, for he turned by accident into the wrong room--a small apartment hardly used at all; and before he had time to turn back he stopped petrified at the sight of a picture on the wall.

There could be no mistake--it was the original of that ill-omened print he had seen in the Edinburgh hotel, "The Execution of Lord Tulliwuddle." The actual title was there plain to see.
"Zen it vas not a hoax!" he gasped.
His first impulse was to look for a bicycle and tear after the dog-cart.
"But can I ride him in a kilt ?" he reflected.
By the time he had fully debated this knotty point his friend was miles upon his way, and the Baron was left ruefully to lament his rashness in parting with such an ally..