I troubled the colonel to pass the claret. Travers laughed for the first time. "That's a good idea," he said, in that carrying "bar-mess" voice of his; "an air-gun for cats, ha, ha! Make good bags, eh, Weatherhead?" I said that I did, /very/ good bags, and felt I was getting painfully red in the face.
"Oh, Algy is an excellent shot--quite a sportsman," said my mother. "I remember, oh, long ago, when we lived at Hammersmith, he had a pistol, and he used to strew crumbs in the garden for the sparrows, and shoot at them out of the pantry window; he frequently hit one."
"Well," said the colonel, not much impressed by these sporting reminiscences, "don't go rolling over our Bingo by mistake, you know, Weatherhead, my boy. Not but what you've a sort of right after this-- only don't. I wouldn't go through it all twice for anything."
"If you really won't take any more wine," I said, hurriedly, addressing the colonel and Travers, "suppose we all go out and have our coffee on the lawn? It--it will be cooler there." For it was getting very hot indoors, I thought.
I left Travers to amuse the ladies--he could do no more harm now; and, taking the colonel aside, I seized the opportunity, as we strolled up and down the garden path, to ask his consent to Lilian's engagement to me. He gave it cordially. "There's not a man in England," he said, "that I'd sooner see her married to after to-day. You're a quiet, steady young fellow, and you've a good kind heart. As for the money, that's neither here nor there; Lilian won't come to you without a penny, you know. But really, my boy, you can hardly believe what it is to my poor wife and me to see that dog. Why, bless my soul, look at him now! What's the matter with him, eh?"
To my unutterable horror, I saw that that miserable poodle, after begging unnoticed at the tea-table for some time, had retired to an open space before it, where he was industriously standing on his head.
We gathered round and examined the animal curiously, as he continued to balance himself gravely in his abnormal position. "Good gracious, John," cried Mrs. Currie, "I never saw Bingo do such a thing before in his life!"
"Very odd," said the colonel, putting up his glasses; "never learned that from /me/."
"I tell you what I fancy it is," I suggested wildly. "You see, he was always a sensitive, excitable animal, and perhaps the--the sudden joy of his return has gone to his head--/upset/ him, you know."
They seemed disposed to accept this solution, and, indeed, I believe they would have credited Bingo with every conceivable degree of sensibility; but I felt myself that if this unhappy animal had many more of these accomplishments I was undone, for the original Bingo had never been a dog of parts.
"It's very odd," said Travers, reflectively, as the dog recovered his proper level, "but I always thought that it was half the /right/ ear that Bingo had lost."
"So it is, isn't it?" said the colonel. "Left, eh? Well, I thought myself it was the right."
My heart almost stopped with terror; I had altogether forgotten that.
I hastened to set the point at rest. "Oh, it /was/ the left," I said, positively; "I know it because I remember so particularly thinking how odd it was that it /should/ be the left ear, and not the right!" I told myself this should be positively my last lie.
"/Why/ odd?" asked Frank Travers, with his most offensive Socratic manner.
"My dear fellow, I can't tell you," I said, impatiently; "everything seems odd when you come to think at all about it."
"Algernon," said Lilian, later on, "will you tell Aunt Mary and Mr.
Travers and--me how it was you came to find Bingo? Mr. Travers is quite anxious to hear all about it."
I could not very well refuse; I sat down and told the story, all my own way. I painted Blagg perhaps rather bigger and blacker than life, and described an exciting scene, in which I recognised Bingo by his collar in the streets, and claimed and bore him off then and there in spite of all opposition.
I had the inexpressible pleasure of seeing Travers grinding his teeth with envy as I went on, and feeling Lilian's soft, slender hand glide silently into mine as I told my tale in the twilight.
All at once, just as I reached the climax, we heard the poodle barking furiously at the hedge which separated my garden from the road.
"There's a foreign-looking man staring over the hedge," said Lilian;
"Bingo always /did/ hate foreigners."
There certainly was a swarthy man there, and, though I had no reason for it then, somehow my heart died within me at the sight of him.
"Don't be alarmed, sir," cried the colonel; "the dog won't bite you-- unless there's a hole in the hedge anywhere."
The stranger took off his small straw hat with a sweep. "Ah, I am not afraid," he said, and his accent proclaimed him a Frenchman; "he is not enrage at me. May I ask, it is pairmeet to speak viz Misterre Vezzered?"
I felt I must deal with this person alone, for I feared the worst; and, asking them to excuse me, I went to the hedge and faced the Frenchman with the frightful calm of despair. He was a short, stout little man, with blue cheeks, sparkling black eyes, and a vivacious walnut-coloured countenance; he wore a short black alpaca coat, and a large white cravat, with an immense oval malachite brooch in the centre of it, which I mention because I found myself staring mechanically at it during the interview.
"My name is Weatherhead," I began with the bearing of a detected pickpocket. "Can I be of any service to you?"
"Of a great service," he said, emphatically; "you can restore to me ze poodle vich I see zere!"
Nemesis had called at last in the shape of a rival claimant. I staggered for an instant; then I said, "Oh, I think you are under a mistake; that dog is not mine."
"I know it," he said; "zere 'as been leetle mistake, so if ze dog is not to you, you give him back to me, /hein/?"
"I tell you," I said, "that poodle belongs to the gentleman over there." And I pointed to the colonel, seeing that it was best now to bring him into the affair without delay.
