She is very
upset and nervous, and when I offered to come to her she clung to me and
cried with relief." So when I had had some supper, which I took with the Voivode, I came down
to my old quarters in the Garden Room, and turned in early. I was awakened a little before dawn by the coming of the fighting monk
Theophrastos, a notable runner, who had an urgent message for me. This
was the letter to me given to him by Rooke. He had been cautioned to
give it into no other hand, but to find me wherever I might be, and
convey it personally. When he had arrived at Plazac I had left on the
aeroplane, so he had turned back to Vissarion. When I read Rooke's report of Ernest Melton's abominable conduct I was
more angry with him than I can say. Indeed, I did not think before that
that I could be angry with him, for I have always despised him. But this
was too much. However, I realized the wisdom of Rooke's advice, and went
away by myself to get over my anger and reacquire my self-mastery. The
aeroplane _Teuta_ was still housed on the tower, so I went up alone and
took it out. When I had had a spin of about a hundred miles I felt better. The
bracing of the wind and the quick, exhilarating motion restored me to
myself, and I felt able to cope with Master Ernest, or whatever else
chagrinable might come along, without giving myself away. As Teuta had
thought it better to keep silence as to Ernest's affront, I felt I must
not acknowledge it; but, all the same, I determined to get rid of him
before the day was much older. When I had had my breakfast I sent word to him by a servant that I was
coming to his rooms, and followed not long behind the messenger. He was in a suit of silk pyjamas, such as not even Solomon in all his
glory was arrayed in. I closed the door behind me before I began to
speak. He listened, at first amazed, then disconcerted, then angry, and
then cowering down like a whipped hound. I felt that it was a case for
speaking out. A bumptious ass like him, who deliberately insulted
everyone he came across--for if all or any of his efforts in that way
were due to mere elemental ignorance he was not fit to live, but should
be silenced on sight as a modern Caliban--deserved neither pity nor
mercy. To extend to him fine feeling, tolerance, and such-like
gentlenesses would be to deprive the world of them without benefit to
any. So well as I can remember, what I said was something like this:

"Ernest, as you say, you've got to go, and to go quick, you understand. I dare say you look on this as a land of barbarians, and think that any
of your high-toned refinements are thrown away on people here. Well,
perhaps it is so. Undoubtedly, the structure of the country is rough;
the mountains may only represent the glacial epoch; but so far as I can
gather from some of your exploits--for I have only learned a small part
as yet--you represent a period a good deal farther back. You seem to
have given our folk here an exhibition of the playfulness of the hooligan
of the Saurian stage of development; but the Blue Mountains, rough as
they are, have come up out of the primeval slime, and even now the people
aim at better manners. They may be rough, primitive, barbarian,
elemental, if you will, but they are not low down enough to tolerate
either your ethics or your taste. My dear cousin, your life is not safe
here! I am told that yesterday, only for the restraint exercised by
certain offended mountaineers on other grounds than your own worth, you
would have been abbreviated by the head. Another day of your fascinating
presence would do away with this restraint, and then we should have a
scandal. I am a new-comer here myself--too new a comer to be able to
afford a scandal of that kind--and so I shall not delay your going. Believe me, my dear cousin, Ernest Roger Halbard Melton, of Humcroft,
Salop, that I am inconsolable about your resolution of immediate
departure, but I cannot shut my eyes to its wisdom. At present the
matter is altogether amongst ourselves, and when you have gone--if it be
immediately--silence will be observed on all hands for the sake of the
house wherein you are a guest; but if there be time for scandal to
spread, you will be made, whether you be alive or dead, a European
laughing-stock. Accordingly, I have anticipated your wishes, and have
ordered a fast steam yacht to take you to Ancona, or to whatever other
port you may desire. The yacht will be under the command of Captain
Desmond, of one of our battleships--a most determined officer, who will
carry out any directions which may be given to him. This will insure
your safety so far as Italian territory. Some of his officials will
arrange a special carriage for you up to Flushing, and a cabin on the
steamer to Queenboro'. A man of mine will travel on the train and
steamer with you, and will see that whatever you may wish in the way of
food or comfort will be provided. Of course, you understand, my dear
cousin, that you are my guest until you arrive in London. I have not
asked Rooke to accompany you, as when he went to meet you, it was a
mistake. Indeed, there might have been a danger to you which I never
contemplated--a quite unnecessary danger, I assure you. But happily
Admiral Rooke, though a man of strong passions, has wonderful
self-control." "Admiral Rooke?" he queried. "Admiral?" "Admiral, certainly," I replied, "but not an ordinary Admiral--one of
many. He is _the_ Admiral--the Lord High Admiral of the Land of the Blue
Mountains, with sole control of its expanding navy. When such a man is
treated as a valet, there may be . . . But why go into this? It is all
over. I only mention it lest anything of a similar kind should occur
with Captain Desmond, who is a younger man, and therefore with probably
less self-repression." I saw that he had learned his lesson, and so said no more on the subject. There was another reason for his going which I did not speak of. Sir
Colin MacKelpie was coming with his clansmen, and I knew he did not like
Ernest Melton. I well remembered that episode of his offering one finger
to the old gentleman in Mr. Trent's office, and, moreover, I had my
suspicions that Aunt Janet's being upset was probably in some measure due
to some rudeness of his that she did not wish to speak about. He is
really an impossible young man, and is far better out of this country
than in it. If he remained here, there would be some sort of a tragedy
for certain. I must say that it was with a feeling of considerable relief that I saw
the yacht steam out of the creek, with Captain Desmond on the bridge and
my cousin beside him. Quite other were my feelings when, an hour after, _The Lady_ came flying
into the creek with the Lord High Admiral on the bridge, and beside him,
more splendid and soldier-like than ever, Sir Colin MacKelpie. Mr.
Bingham Trent was also on the bridge.