'Don't you think, sir,' said the solid-looking man, 'that when foreigners are travelling in out-of-the-way places, where they can find no one who speaks their language, they are grossly imposed on by the hotel-keepers?'
'I daresay many are imposed upon; but I, never.'
'And,' said Miss Gordon vivaciously, 'how do you manage to escape?'
'My mode is one few would care to adopt; but it is most effectual:
'Before I make signs to them I want the bill, I become erratic for awhile. Then I show them I wish to pay. Then I become moody. When they hand me the bill, I take out a revolver, and begin chanting the multiplication in English. I have tried cursing and swearing at them, but nothing is half so good as the multiplication chanted in a low voice. The effect is weird and confounding. They don't know whether I am going to shoot one of them or myself; they don't know whether I am sane or mad. They are sure of only one thing--that they wish I'd go. When I have treated them to about ten minutes of this, I put the revolver in my pocket, and tender them what I think fair. If they show hesitation, I go back to my old device, and starve them out.'
'You are joking,' said Mrs Barclay, from behind the tea-urn.
'Not at all, Mrs Barclay; and if there are any irregularities in your account, I'll treat you to a specimen of my method. If you have a doubt of the matter, ask Mr Osborne. He has seen me do the thing a thousand times.'
'As Mr Nevill never met Mr Osborne until yesterday, I don't think you need, Mrs Barclay, be in great dread, if you cannot believe without his evidence.'
'What are you going to do to-day, Osborne?' asked Nevill.
'I think I shall spend the day in St Paul's.'
'Spend the day in St Paul's! Why, bless my soul, man, you don't mean to say they have still the power of doing that sort of thing here?'
'The power of sending a man to a church for a whole day. Are you to sit on a stool of repentance, with a white sheet around you and a lighted candle in your hand?'
'Do you really intend spending a whole day over St Paul's?' asked Miss Gordon, with a look of interest.
Mrs Barclay glanced at the girl, and asked,--
'Then perhaps you will take her, Mr Osborne?'
He grew red and uncomfortable, and stammered out,--