"Won't you all go downstairs now?" said Alvina. "Mr. Max knows what
you must do."
And she shooed the five men out of the bedroom.
"I _must_ get up. I won't dance. I will be a dummy. But I must be
there. It is too dre-eadful, too dre-eadful!" wailed Madame.
"Don't take any notice of them. They can manage by themselves. Men
are such babies. Let them carry it through by themselves."
"Children--they are all children!" wailed Madame. "All children! And
so, what will they do without their old _gouvernante_? My poor
_braves_, what will they do without Kishwégin? It is too dreadful,
too dre-eadful, yes. The poor Mr. May--so _disappointed_."
"Then let him _be_ disappointed," cried Alvina, as she forcibly
tucked up Madame and made her lie still.
"You are hard! You are a hard Englishwoman. All alike. All alike!"
Madame subsided fretfully and weakly. Alvina moved softly about.
And in a few minutes Madame was sleeping again.
Alvina went downstairs. Mr. May was listening to Max, who was
telling in German all about the White Prisoner scene. Mr. May had
spent his boyhood in a German school. He cocked his head on one
side, and, laying his hand on Max's arm, entertained him in odd
German. The others were silent. Ciccio made no pretence of
listening, but smoked and stared at his own feet. Louis and Geoffrey
half understood, so Louis nodded with a look of deep comprehension,
whilst Geoffrey uttered short, snappy "Ja!--Ja!--Doch!--Eben!"
rather irrelevant.
"I'll be the squaw," cried Mr. May in English, breaking off and
turning round to the company. He perked up his head in an odd,
parrot-like fashion. "_I'll_ be the squaw! What's her name?
Kishwégin? I'll be Kishwégin." And he bridled and beamed
self-consciously.
The two tall Swiss looked down on him, faintly smiling. Ciccio,
sitting with his arms on his knees on the sofa, screwed round his
head and watched the phenomenon of Mr. May with inscrutable,
expressionless attention.
"Let us go," said Mr. May, bubbling with new importance. "Let us go
and rehearse _this morning_, and let us do the procession this
afternoon, when the colliers are just coming home. There! What?
Isn't that exactly the idea? Well! Will you be ready at once,
_now_?"
He looked excitedly at the young men. They nodded with slow gravity,
as if they were already _braves_. And they turned to put on their
boots. Soon they were all trooping down to Lumley, Mr. May prancing
like a little circus-pony beside Alvina, the four young men rolling
ahead.
"What do you think of it?" cried Mr. May. "We've saved the
situation--what? Don't you think so? Don't you think we can
<<BackPagesTo menuForward>>