"What!" he exclaimed at last, "you, too, Beverley! Poor devil, have
you come to it--and so soon?"
"No," said Barnabas, shaking his head, "I wish to see him on behalf
of another--"
"Eh? Another? Oh--!"
"On behalf of Mr. Ronald Barrymaine."
"Of Barrym--" Here the Captain suddenly fell to towelling himself
violently, stopped to stare at Barnabas again, gave himself another
futile rub or two, and, finally, dropped the towel altogether.
"On behalf of--oh b'gad!" he exclaimed, and incontinent vanished
into the dressing-room. But, almost immediately he was back again,
this time wielding a shaving brush. "Wish to see--Gaunt, do you?" he
inquired.
"Yes," said Barnabas.
"And," said the Captain, staring very hard at the shaving brush,
"not--on your own account?"
"No," answered Barnabas.
"But on behalf--I think you said--of--"
"Of Ronald Barrymaine," said Barnabas.
"Oh!" murmured the Captain, and vanished again. But now Barnabas
followed him.
"Have you any objection to my going with you?" he inquired.
"Not in the least," answered the Captain, making hideous faces at
himself in the mirror as he shaved, "oh, no--delighted, 'pon my soul,
b'gad--only--"
"Well?"
"Only, if it's time you're going to ask for--it's no go, my
boy--hard-fisted old rasper, you know the saying,--(Bible, I think),
figs, b'gad, and thistles, bread from stones, but no mercy from
Jasper Gaunt.
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