Doctor Claudius, A True Story Read online

  CHAPTER III.

  Claudius told his old landlord--his _philister_, as he would have calledhim--that he was going away on his customary foot tour for a month orso. He packed a book and a few things in his knapsack and joined Mr.Barker. To Claudius in his simplicity there was nothing incongruous inhis travelling as a plain student in the company of theexquisitely-arrayed New Yorker, and the latter was far too much a man ofthe world to care what his companion wore. He intended that the Doctorshould be introduced to the affectionate skill of a London tailor beforehe was much older, and he registered a vow that the long yellow hairshould be cut. But these details were the result of his showman'sintuition; personally, he would as readily have travelled with Claudiushad he affected the costume of a shoeblack. He knew that the man wasvery rich, and he respected his eccentricity for the present. Toaccomplish the transformation of exterior which he contemplated, fromthe professional and semi-cynic garb to the splendour of a swell of theperiod, Mr. Barker counted on some more potent influence than his own.The only point on which his mind was made up was that Claudius mustaccompany him to America and create a great sensation.

  "I wonder if we shall meet her," remarked Mr. Barker reflectively, whenthey were seated in the train.

  "Whom?" asked Claudius, who did not intend to understand his companion'schaff.

  But Mr. Barker had shot his arrow, and started cleverly as he answered--

  "Did I say anything? I must have been talking to myself."

  Claudius was not so sure. However, the hint had produced its effect,falling, as it did, into the vague current of his thoughts and givingthem direction. He began to wonder whether there was any likelihood ofhis meeting the woman of whom he had thought so much, and before long hefound himself constructing a conversation, supposed to take place ontheir first encounter, overleaping such trifles as probability, thequestion of an introduction, and other formalities with the readyagility of a mind accustomed to speculation.

  "The scenery is fine, is it not?" remarked Claudius tritely as theyneared Baden.

  "Oh yes, for Europe. We manage our landscapes better in America."

  "How so?"

  "Swivels. You can turn the rocks around and see the other side."

  Claudius laughed a little, but Barker did not smile. He was apparentlyoccupied in inventing a patent transformation landscape on wheels. Inreality, he was thinking out a _menu_ for dinner whereby he might feedhis friend without starving himself. For Mr. Barker was particular abouthis meals, and accustomed to fare sumptuously every day, whereas he hadobserved that the Doctor was fond of sausages and decayed cabbage. Buthe knew such depraved tastes could not long withstand the blandishmentsand caressing hypersensualism of Delmonico, if he ever got the Doctor sofar.

  Having successfully accomplished the business of dining, Mr. Barkerpromised to return in an hour, and sallied out to find the Britisharistocracy, whom he knew. The British aristocracy was taking his coffeein solitude at the principal _cafe_, and hailed Mr. Barker's advent withconsiderable interest, for they had tastes in common.

  "How are you, Duke?"

  "Pretty fit, thanks. Where have you been?"

  "Oh, all over. I was just looking for you."

  "Yes?" said the aristocracy interrogatively.

  "Yes. I want you to introduce me to somebody you know."

  "Pleasure. Who?"

  "She has black eyes and dark hair, very dark complexion, middlingheight, fine figure; carries an ivory-handled parasol with a big M and acrown." Mr. Barker paused for a look of intelligence on the Englishman'sface.

  "Sure she's here?" inquired the latter.

  "I won't swear. She was seen in Heidelberg, admiring views and droppingher parasol about, something like three weeks ago."

  "Oh! ah, yes. Come on." And the British aristocracy settled the rose inhis button-hole and led the way. He moved strongly with long steps, butMr. Barker walked delicately like Agag.

  "By the by, Barker, she is a countrywoman of yours. She married aRussian, and her name is Margaret."

  "Was it a happy marriage?" asked the American, taking his cigar from hismouth.

  "Exceedingly. Husband killed at Plevna. Left her lots of tin."

  They reached their destination. The Countess was at home. The Countesswas enchanted to make the acquaintance of Monsieur, and on learning thathe was an American and a compatriot, was delighted to see him. Theyconversed pleasantly. In the course of twenty minutes the aristocracydiscovered he had an engagement and departed, but Mr. Barker remained.It was rather stretching his advantage, but he did not lack confidence.

  "So you, too, Countess, have been in Heidelberg this summer?"

  "About three weeks ago. I am very fond of the old place."

  "Lovely, indeed," said Barker. "The castle, the old tower half blownaway in that slovenly war--"

  "Oh, such a funny thing happened to me there," exclaimed the CountessMargaret, innocently falling into the trap. "I was standing just at theedge with Miss Skeat--she is my companion, you know--and I dropped myparasol, and it fell rattling to the bottom, and suddenly there started,apparently out of space--"

  "A German professor, seven or eight feet high, who bounded after thesunshade, and bounded back and bowed and left you to your astonishment.Is not that what you were going to say, Countess?"

  "I believe you are a medium," said the Countess, looking at Barker inastonishment. "But perhaps you only guessed it. Can you tell me what hewas like, this German professor?"

  "Certainly. He had long yellow hair, and a beard like Rip van Winkle's,and large white hands; and he was altogether one of the most strikingindividuals you ever saw."

  "It is evident that you know him, Mr. Barker, and that he has told youthe story. Though how you should have known it was I--"

  "Guess-work and my friend's description."

  "But how do you come to be intimate with German professors, Mr. Barker?Are you learned, and that sort of thing?"

  "He was a German professor once. He is now an eccentricity without apurpose. Worth millions, and living in a Heidelberg garret, wishing hewere poor again."

  "What an interesting creature! Tell me more, please."

  Barker told as much of Claudius's history as he knew.

  "Too delightful!" ejaculated the Countess Margaret, looking out of thewindow rather pensively.

  "Countess," said the American, "if I had enjoyed the advantage of youracquaintance even twenty-four hours I would venture to ask leave topresent my friend to you. As it is--" Mr. Barker paused.

  "As it is I will grant you the permission unasked," said the Countessquietly, still looking out of the window. "I am enough of an Americanstill to know that your name is a guarantee for any one you introduce."

  "You are very kind," said Mr. Barker modestly. Indeed the name of Barkerhad long been honourably known in connection with New York enterprise.The Barkers were not Dutch, it is true, but they had the next highesttitle to consideration in that their progenitor had dwelt in Salem,Massachusetts.

  "Bring him in the morning," said the Countess, after a moment's thought.

  "About two?"

  "Oh no! At eleven or so. I am a very early person. I get up at thescreech of dawn."

  "Permit me to thank you on behalf of my friend as well as for myself,"said Mr. Barker, bending low over the dark lady's hand as he took hisdeparture.

  "So glad to have seen you. It is pleasant to meet a civilised countrymanin these days."

  "It can be nothing to the pleasure of meeting a charming countrywoman,"replied Mr. Barker, and he glided from the room.

  The dark lady stood for a moment looking at the door through which hervisitor had departed. It was almost nine o'clock by this time, and sherang for lights, subsiding into a low chair while the servant broughtthem. The candles flickered in the light breeze that fanned fitfullythrough the room, and, finding it difficult to read, the Countess sentfor Miss Skeat.

  "What a tiny little world it is!" said Margaret, by way of opening theconversation.
<
br />   Miss Skeat sat down by the table. She was thin and yellow, and her boneswere on the outside. She wore gold-rimmed eyeglasses, and was welldressed, in plain black, with a single white ruffle about her long andsinewy neck. She was hideous, but she had a certain touch of dignifiedelegance, and her face looked trustworthy and not unkind.

  "Apropos of anything especial?" asked she, seeing that the Countessexpected her to say something.

  "Do you remember when I dropped my parasol at Heidelberg?"

  "Perfectly," replied Miss Skeat.

  "And the man who picked it up, and who looked like Niemann in_Lohengrin_?"

  "Yes, and who must have been a professor. I remember very well."

  "A friend of mine brought a friend of his to see me this afternoon, andthe man himself is coming to-morrow."

  "What is his name?" asked the lady-companion.

  "I am sure I don't know, but Mr. Barker says he is very eccentric. He isvery rich, and yet he lives in a garret in Heidelberg and wishes he werepoor."

  "Are you quite sure he is in his right mind, dear Countess?"

  Margaret looked kindly at Miss Skeat. Poor lady! she had been rich once,and had not lived in a garret. Money to her meant freedom andindependence. Not that she was unhappy with Margaret, who was alwaysthoughtful and considerate, and valued her companion as a friend; butshe would rather have lived with Margaret feeling it was a matter ofchoice and not of necessity, for she came of good Scottish blood, andwas very proud.

  "Oh yes!" answered the younger lady; "he is very learned andphilosophical, and I am sure you will like him. If he is at allcivilised we will have him to dinner."

  "By all means," said Miss Skeat with alacrity. She liked intelligentsociety, and the Countess had of late indulged in a rather prolonged fitof solitude. Miss Skeat took the last novel--one of Tourgueneff's--fromthe table and, armed with a paper-cutter, began to read to herladyship.

  It was late when Mr. Barker found Claudius scribbling equations on asheet of the hotel letter-paper. The Doctor looked up pleasantly at hisfriend. He could almost fancy he had missed his society a little; butthe sensation was too novel a one to be believed genuine.

  "Did you find your friends?" he inquired.

  "Yes, by some good luck. It is apt to be the other people one finds, asa rule."

  "Cynicism is not appropriate to your character, Mr. Barker."

  "No. I hate cynical men. It is generally affectation, and it is alwaysnonsense. But I think the wrong people have a way of turning up at thewrong moment." After a pause, during which Mr. Barker lighted a cigarand extended his thin legs and trim little feet on a chair in front ofhim, he continued:

  "Professor, have you a very strong and rooted dislike to the society ofwomen?"

  Assailed by this point-blank question, the Doctor put his bit of paperinside his book, and drumming on the table with his pencil, considered amoment. Mr. Barker puffed at his cigar with great regularity.

  "No," said Claudius at last, "certainly not. To woman man owes his life,and to woman he ought to owe his happiness. Without woman civilisationwould be impossible, and society would fall to pieces."

  "Oh!" ejaculated Mr. Barker.

  "I worship woman in the abstract and in the concrete. I reverence hermission, and I honour the gifts of Heaven which fit her to fulfil it."

  "Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Barker.

  "I think there is nothing made in creation that can be compared withwoman, not even man. I am enthusiastic, of course, you will say, but Ibelieve that homage and devotion to woman is the first duty of man,after homage and devotion to the Supreme Being whom all different racesunite in describing as God."

  "That will do, thank you," said Mr. Barker, "I am quite satisfied ofyour adoration, and I will not ask her name."

  "She has no name, and she has all names," continued Claudius seriously."She is an ideal."

  "Yes, my feeble intelligence grasps that she cannot be anything else.But I did not want a confession of faith. I only asked if you dislikedladies' society, because I was going to propose to introduce you to somefriends of mine here."

  "Oh!" said Claudius, and he leaned back in his chair and stared at thelamp. Barker was silent.

  The Doctor was puzzled. He thought it would be very rude of him torefuse Mr. Barker's offer. On the other hand, in spite of hisprotestations of devotion to the sex, he knew that the exalted opinionhe held of woman in general had gained upon him of late years, since hehad associated less with them. It was with him a beautiful theory, theoutcome of a knightly nature thrown back on itself, but as yet not fixedor clearly defined by any intimate knowledge of woman's character, stillless by any profound personal experience of love. Courtesy was uppermostas he answered.

  "Really," he said at last, "if you are very desirous of presenting me toyour friends, of course I--"

  "Oh, only if it is agreeable to you, of course. If it is in any waythe reverse--" protested the polite Mr. Barker.

  "Not that--not exactly disagreeable. Only it is some time since I haveenjoyed the advantage of an hour's conversation with ladies; andbesides, since it comes to that, I am here as a pedestrian, and I do notpresent a very civilised appearance."

  "Don't let that disturb you. Since you consent," went on Mr. Barker,briskly taking everything for granted, "I may tell you that the lady inquestion has expressed a wish to have you presented, and that I couldnot do less than promise to bring you if possible. As for your personalappearance, it is not of the least consequence. Perhaps, if you don'tmind a great deal, you might have your hair cut. Don't be offended,Professor, but nothing produces an appearance of being dressed soinfallibly as a neatly-trimmed head."

  "Oh, certainly, if you think it best, I will have my hair cut. It willsoon grow again."

  Mr. Barker smiled under the lambrikin of his moustache. "Yes," thoughthe, "but it sha'n't."

  "Then," he said aloud, "we will go about eleven."

  Claudius sat wondering who the lady could be who wanted to have himpresented. But he was afraid to ask; Barker would immediately suppose heimagined it to be the dark lady. However, his thoughts took it as acertainty that it must be she, and went on building castles in the airand conversations in the clouds. Barker watched him and probably guessedwhat he was thinking of; but he did not want to spoil the surprise hehad arranged, and fearing lest Claudius might ask some awkward question,he went to bed, leaving the Doctor to his cogitations.

  In the morning he lay in wait for his friend, who had gone off for anearly walk in the woods. He expected that a renewal of the attack wouldbe necessary before the sacrifice of the yellow locks could beaccomplished, and he stood on the steps of the hotel, clad in the mostexquisite of grays, tapering down to the most brilliant of boots. He hada white rose in his buttonhole, and his great black dog was lying at hisfeet, having for a wonder found his master, for the beast was given toroaming, or to the plebeian society of Barker's servant. The American'scareful attire contrasted rather oddly with his sallow face, and withthe bony hand that rested against the column. He was a young man, but helooked any age that morning. Before long his eye twinkled and he changedhis position expectantly, for he saw the tall figure of Claudiusstriding up the street, a head and shoulders above the strolling crowd;and, wonderful to relate, the hair was gone, the long beard wascarefully clipped and trimmed, and the Doctor wore a new gray hat!

  "If he will black his boots and put a rose in his coat, he will do. Whata tearing swell he will be when he is dressed," thought Mr. Barker, ashe looked at his friend.

  "You see I have followed your advice," said Claudius, holding out hishand.

  "Always do that, and you will yet taste greatness," said the othercheerfully. "You look like a crown prince like that. Perfectly immense."

  "I suppose I am rather big," said Claudius apologetically, not catchingthe American idiom. Mr. Barker, however, did not explain himself, for hewas thinking of other things.

  "We will go very soon. Excuse the liberty, Professor, but you might haveyour boots blacked. The
re is a little cad down the backstairs who doesit."

  "Of course," answered Claudius, and disappeared within. A small man whowas coming out paused and turned to look after him, putting up hiseyeglass. Then he took off his hat to Mr. Barker.

  "Pardon, Monsieur," he began, "if I take the liberty of making aninquiry, but could you inform me of the name of that gentleman, whoseappearance fills me with astonishment, and whose vast dimensions obscurethe landscape of Baden?"

  Mr. Barker looked at the small man for a moment very gravely.

  "Yes," said he pensively, "his royal highness _is_ a large mancertainly." And while his interlocutor was recovering enough toformulate another question, Mr. Barker moved gently away to aflowerstand.

  When Claudius returned his friend was waiting for him, and himselfpinned a large and expensive rose in the Doctor's buttonhole. Mr. Barkersurveyed his work--the clipped head, the new hat, the shiny boots andthe rose--with a satisfied air, such as Mr. Barnum may have worn when helanded Jumbo on the New York pier. Then he called a cab, and they droveaway.