Fiction > Serialisations > London, 1896-1897 - St. Ives > Volume 13

256 THE PALL MALL MAGAZINE.
" And pray how can I help that ? If, at the last moment, a couple of lunatics
come rushing in "
" They still leave Sheepshanks to be accounted for." Byfield began to
irritate me. I turned to the stowaway. " Perhaps," said I, " Mr. Sheepshanks
will explain?"
" I paid in advance," Mr. Sheepshanks began, eager to seize the opening
presented. " The fact is, I'm a married man."
"Already at two points you have the advantage of us. Proceed, sir."
" You were good enough, just now, to give me your name, Mr. "
" The Vicomte Anne de Keroual de St. Yves."
" It is a somewhat difficult name to remember."
" If that be all, sir, within two minutes you shall have a memoria technica
prepared for use during the voyage."
Mr. Sheepshanks harked back. " I am a married man, and— d'ye see ? —
Mrs. Sheepshanks, as you might say, has no sympathy with ballooning. She was
a Guthrie, of Dumfries."
" Which accounts for it, to be sure," said I.
" To me, sir, on the contrary, aerostatics have long been an alluring study.
I might even, Mr. , I might even, I say, term it the passion of my life.'
His mild eyes shone behind their glasses. " I remember Vincent Lunardi, sir.
I was present in Heriot's Gardens when he made an ascension there in October
'85. He came down at Cupar. The Society of Gentlemen Golfers at Cupar
presented him with an address ; and at Edinburgh he was admitted Knight
Companion of the Beggar's Benison, a social company, or (as I may say) crew,
since defunct. A thin-faced man, sir. He wore a peculiar bonnet, if I may use
the expression, very much cocked up behind. The shape became fashionable.
He once pawned his watch with me, sir ; that being my profession. I regret to
say he redeemed it subsequently : otherwise I might have the pleasure of showing
it to you. Oh yes, the theory of ballooning has long been a passion with me.
But in deference to Mrs. Sheepshanks I have abstained from the actual practice —
until to-day. To tell you the truth, my wife believes me to be brushing off the
cobwebs in the Kyles of Bute."
" Are there any cobwebs in the Kyles of Bute ? " asked Dalmahoy, in a tone
unnaturally calm.
"A figure of speech, sir — as one might say, holiday-keeping there. I paid
Mr. Byfield five pounds in advance. I have his receipt. And the stipulation
was that I should be concealed in the car and make the ascension with him
alone."
" Are we then to take it, sir, that our company offends you ? " I demanded.
He made haste to disclaim. " Not at all : decidedly not in the least. But
the chances were for less agreeable associates." I nodded. "And a bargain's
a bargain," he wound up.
"So it is," said I. "Byfield, hand Mr. Sheepshanks back his five
pounds."
" Oh, come now ! " the aeronaut objected. " And who may you be, to be
ordering a man about ? "
" I believe I have already answered that question twice in your hearing."
" Mosha the Viscount Thingamy de Something-or-other ? 1 dare say ! "
''Have you any objection?"
" Not the smallest. For all I care, you are Robert Burns, or Napoleon
Bonaparte, or anything, from the Mother of the Gracchi to Balaam's Ass. But I