"It is necessary, Bonker--you are sure?"
"No Tulliwuddle has ever omitted the ceremony.
If you shirked, I am assured on the very best authority that it would excite the gravest suspicions of your authenticity."
Count Bunker spoke with an air of the most resolute conviction. Ever since they arrived he had taken infinite pains to discover precisely what was expected of the chieftain, and having by great good luck made the acquaintance of an elderly individual who claimed to be the piper of the clan, and who proved a perfect granary of legends, he was able to supply complete information on every point of importance. Once the Baron had endeavored to corroborate these particulars by interviewing the piper himself, but they had found so much difficulty in understanding one another's dialects that he had been content to trust implicitly to his friend's information. The Count, indeed, had rather avoided than sought advice on the subject, and the piper, after several confidential conversations and the passage of a sum of silver into his sporran, displayed an equally Delphic tendency.
The Baron, therefore, argued the present point no longer.
"It is jost a mere ceremony," he said. "Ach, vell, nozing vill happen. Zis ghost--vat is his name?"
"It is known as the Wraith of the Tulliwuddles.
The heir must interview it within a week of coming to the Castle."
"Vere most I see him?"
"In the armory, at midnight. You bring one friend, one candle, and wear a bonnet with one eagle's feather in it. You enter at eleven and wait for an hour--and, by the way, neither of you must speak above a whisper."
"Pooh! Jost hombog!" said the Baron valiantly.
"I do not fear soch trash."
"When the Wraith appears----"
"My goot Bonker, he vill not gom!"
"Supposing he does come--and mind you, strange things happen in these old buildings, particularly in the Highlands, and after dinner; if he comes, Baron, you must ask him three questions."
The Baron laughed scornfully.
"If I see a ghost I vill ask him many interesting questions--if he does feel cold, and sochlike, eh? Ha, ha!"
With an imperturbable gravity that was not without its effect upon the other, however gaily he might talk, Bunker continued "The three questions are: first, 'What art thou?' second, 'Why comest thou here, O spirit?' third, 'What instructions desirest thou to give me?' Strictly speaking, they ought to be asked in Gaelic, but exceptions have been made on former occasions, and Mac-Dui--who pipes, by the way, in the anteroom--assures me that English will satisfy the Wraith in your case."
The Baron sniffed and laughed, and twirled up the ends of his mustaches till they presented a particularly desperate appearance. Yet there was a faint intonation of anxiety in his voice as he inquired--"You vill gom as my friend, of course?"
"I? Quite out of the question, I am sorry to say.
To bring a foreigner (as I am supposed to be) would rouse the clan to rebellion. No, Baron, you have a chance of paying a graceful compliment to your host which you must not lose. Ask Mr. Gallosh to share your vigil."
"Gallosh--he vould not be moch good sopposing--Ach, but nozing vill happen! I vill ask him."
The pride of Mr. Gallosh on being selected as his lordship's friend on this historic occasion was pleasant to witness.
"It's just a bit of fiddle-de-dee," he informed his delighted family. "Duncan Gallosh to be looking for bogles is pretty ridiculous--but oh, I can't refuse to disoblige his lordship."
"I should think not, when he's done you the honor to invite you out of all his friends!" said Mrs. Gallosh warmly. "Eva! do you hear the compliment that's been paid your papa?"
Eva, their fair eldest daughter, came into the room at a run. She had indeed heard (since the news was on every tongue), and impetuously she flung her arms about her father's neck.
"Oh, papa, do him credit!" she cried; "it's like a story come true! What a romantic thing to happen!"
"What a spirit!" her mother reflected proudly.
"She is just the girl for a chieftain's bride!"
That very night was chosen for the ceremony, and eleven o'clock found them all assembled breathless in the drawing-room: all, save Lord Tulliwuddle and his host.
"Will they have to wait for a whole hour?" asked Mrs. Gallosh in a low voice.
Indeed they all spoke in subdued accents.
"I am told," replied the Count, "that the apparition never appears till after midnight has struck. Any time between twelve and one he may be expected."
"Think of the terrible suspense after twelve has passed!" whispered Eva.
The Count had thought of this.
"I advised Duncan to take his flask," said Mr. Rentoul, with a solemn wink. "So he'll not be so badly off."
"Papa would never do such a thing to-night!" cried Eva.
"It's always a kind of precaution," said the sage.
Presently Count Bunker, who had been imparting the most terrific particulars of former interviews with the Wraith to the younger Galloshes, remarked that he must pass the time by overtaking some pressing correspondence.
"You will forgive me, I hope, for shutting myself up for an hour or so," he said to his hostess. "I shall come back in time to learn the results of the meeting."
And with the loss of his encouraging company a greater uneasiness fell upon the party.
Meanwhile, in a vast cavern of darkness, lit only by the solitary candle, the Baron and his host endeavored to maintain the sceptical buoyancy with which they had set forth upon their adventure. But the chilliness of the room (they had no fire, and it was a misty night with a moaning wind), the inordinate quantity of odd-looking shadows, and the profound silence, were immediately destructive to buoyancy and ultimately trying to scepticism.
"I wish ze piper vould play," whispered the Baron.
"Mebbe he'll begin nearer the time," his companion suggested.
