University of Virginia Library

33. CHAPTER XXXIII.
WHAT THE COUNT IS TO BRADE.

A little ceremony was to be used in going to the
dining-room. It was understood that the late Czarevitch
should lead in the late Princess Alexandrovna;
the Cossack Count, of course, conducting the lady of the
house.

Mr. Don, before this took place, was apprised of a
discovery which Mrs. Wadham had made, nearly affecting
his document: “I suppose you know that strange
language everybody was puzzled about was all made
up. Oh, yes! entirely, — altogether. A pretty good
language to be made up for fun?”

“You surprise me, ma'am!” Mr. Don said, a good
deal astonished. “Well, I think with you it was worthy
of a better fate.”

He at once explained the state of things to the Rev.
Mr. Merritt.

“Then my Anglo-Saxon goes to the bottom;” Mr.
Merritt said good-naturedly, as if a great part of the
world was still standing.

The Count seemed not quite to understand the duty
expected of him.

Mr. Greenwood was for the moment not to be found.
Thereupon, the lady, in a very purpose-like way, walked
up to the eminent foreigner, and showed, in the same

way in which Robinson Crusoe expressed himself to
the savages, that she would take his arm, and they
would go yonder, and, as she explained by forcible
action of the jaws, would there put their mouths to the
best use that most mouths are capable of. The Count,
with his facility at language, caught the meaning
readily; and having gone through with the same
symbolic representation in his turn, and occasioned
another breach of good manners on the part of the
impulsive young people and others, he made a profound
bow and gave the hostess his arm.

It was a disappointment to the company that Brade
and Kate Ryan had abandoned their splendid dresses
(for the boy had been as much in a hurry to get back
to his own, as the girl had shown herself); but it was
still generally agreed that they were an uncommonly
good-looking couple, and well matched.

They were not at all upon the easy and familiar
footing with each other that we once saw, but rather
on that which Kate made a condition of their correspondence
in “The Language.” He addressed her as
“Miss Ryan;” and she (we believe) called him “Mr.
Brade.” They talked together with plenty of reserve
and courteous distance.

The mysterious link of relationship between the
Count and Brade had not been broken when the unknown
tongue was stripped of all mystery; and it was
arranged that they should come next each other, in the
dining-room. The clerical party were not far off; and
Dr. Farwell, very happily, as usual, hit the feeling of
the guests by saying, in his pleasant way, —

“Now here's a place where action is better than
speech.”

The Count's formal salutation of his young kinsman
(if Brade was his kinsman), and the look with which it
was accompanied, had a strangely exhilarating effect
upon the boy and those near, although Brade, as we
know, was no giggling fellow, to be carried off his
gravity by every trifle.

Mr. Merritt saw the state of the case, and considerately
came in: —

“The foreign Count will be too much for that youngster,”
he said: “some of us older people better take
him.”

Meantime the foreigner, unwilling to remain a stranger,
and wishing to tighten the cords of human brotherhood,
had adopted the readiest way he knew to that
end; and forgetting even, for an instant, the immediate
claims of the lady of the house, whom he had had the
honor to bring in, presented Brade ceremoniously
with a card. But this was only for a moment: then
he turned diligently to the discharge of his duties,
and showed himself more practised in the arts of civilization
and usages of the table than many of his titled
brethren have appeared in this country.

It has been already said that the Rev. Mr. Merritt
professed to have kept by him a good deal of his school-boy
associations; in like manner he had not forgotten
his school-boy manners. He now beckoned for a sight
of this paper, much as any of Brade's comrades might
have done. Brade, smiling, handed him the card; and
Mr. Merritt, turning his back and drawing some of his
neighbors to do the same, evidently enjoyed himself
heartily. The Count, getting no answer, devoted himself
the more strenuously to the comfort and refreshment
of the hostess.

“This is about as good as my unknown tongue —
Anglo-Saxon and all,” Mr. Merritt said.

“`Kollidg tis kontra gif digri tu mi on languidg?'”

“`Give degree,' sir, is what he means evidently;”
said Mr. Don, good-naturedly giving his help.

“That's plain enough,” said Mr. Merritt; “but what
does the rest of it mean? Will a college in this country
give a degree in his language, or to a man of his
language? I should say he ought to be encouraged,
somehow, to go on. — I thought,” he said, showing the
card to Mr. Greenwood, who happened to pass, “you
told us he didn't know a word of English.”

“I said `there wasn't an English word in him:' well,
I don't see any thing there against it.”

Dr. Farwell's wisdom was close at hand, and came to
the rescue: —

“But these,” said he, “are the phonetic signs: he
sings by the phonetic signs; he spells by the phonetic
signs. `K-o-l-l-i-d-g' isn't according to our spelling-books;
but isn't it according to another principle, — perhaps
a better principle? The American child says `B'e'd,'
when he's hungry; and `Bed,' when he's sleepy. Now
may not that sound — I put the question as a question
in science — may not that sound represent to that
child — be associated in that child's mind — with the
general idea of comfort? — comfort?”

While this thoughtful speculation was going on,
emphasized, at emphatic points, with the peacefully-shut
fist, across the chest, the great order of things had
also been going on. Ices, salads, jellies, oysters, confectioneries,
in many a tempting form, were carried
about; and trustees and clergymen could not keep
their backs set against them. It happened ill for

science that this strong diversion came just as the
Reverend Doctor had been called upon by Mr. Pettie
or some one, to explain “how the Cossack Count
could spell `college,' or `give,' or any of his other
words, in `phonetic signs,' if he hadn't first got the
words that he wanted to spell.” The answer was lost
in the general occupation that followed.

The Count by no means confined himself in his
attentions to his young relative, nor to the lady of the
house; but in active dumb show, with a noble flourish
of manner, he helped half the young ladies near him,
before their attendant gentlemen knew where they
were, — to the amused fright of the young ladies
themselves.

Mr. Merritt's wit was alive, and found vent, confidentially,
but in a pretty loud confidence, to his friend
the Doctor (and a few others): —

“Though the Count don't understand English, I
think, looking at his performances, we should hold him
a-count-able, shouldn't we?”

“I was expecting to make two or three very good
jokes out of that word,” said Dr. Farwell; “and now
here's Merritt spoiled one of 'em, right off.”

The Count, who, of course, heard but a confused
jargon of speech all about him, unless when, like a
warble from his native woods, or a strain from his own
ancestral halls, or, in short, like just what it was, a word
or two came to him from Mr. Greenwood, did not despair
of communicating, in his own way, with the intelligent
life around him. Again he presented a card to
Brade, and accompanied it with a look of inquiry, and
an inquiring attitude of the different members of the
body, eminently foreign. The card this time bore upon
its face the words: —

“Konow Russik?”

The Trustees happened at the moment to be engaged
in discussing the arrangement for “Benefactors'
Day,” — the “Triumphal Arch,” or the “Arch of Welcome,”
or whatever it should be called; the Latin
speech, to be in two parts, for Gaston and Brade, but
very short, so as to be fitted for out-door delivery, if
the weather should not be too cold or stormy. Dr.
Farwell was just settling things in their places, as they
ought to be settled, — “that seems conclusive as to
that thing, at that point,” — when Mr. Merritt nudged
his elbow, and it was astonishing, considering the speed
and force with which he moved, how soon he checked
himself to see what Mr. Merritt wished him to see.

Brade, not thinking himself seen, was answering
Count Blakisoff's card as well as he could; showing,
in his eyes, a feeling of the drollness of his own appearance,
and that of the Count, who was gesticulating in
sympathy, and with that gravity which belongs to well-bred
foreigners. Catching sight of the clerical party,
Brade politely presented them with the card, and, leaving
them busy, took the opportunity to make his
modest leave-taking and get away. A more conspicuous
part was played by the Count, who hastily followed
him, after a very low bow to the hostess, and
another to the company; Mr. Greenwood explaining
that “he was drawn by strong ties.”

The air was sharp and biting, as Brade, followed
closely by the noble foreigner, left behind the house
full of pleasant warmth, and sounds of mirth.

“Brade!” said the Count, in a strange accent; and,
as Antony turned, he could see that some change had
taken place in the stranger.

“Ha!” said the Count, in the cold air, but speaking
as good English as Russian, and putting his hand to
his face.

Antony waited to join him; and, as the Count withdrew
his hand, a great part of the hair of his face came
with it.

“`Kollidg gif digri tu mi on languidge,'” said the
Count, making out pretty well to repeat the words on
his first card.

Brade laughed. “Ulterior College might do it, I suppose,”
he said.

“Didn't you find me out before?” asked Blake, —
for Blake it was, rid of his hair, but still wearing his
frogged coat. “Really? — The trouble about getting
an `honorary' from Ulterior,” said he, running on, in
his old way, “is, if you haven't been there four years,
you've got to prove you wa'n't bright enough to get
through College; or you want to preach or teach, and
people think you don't know enough.”

Some boys, who were out with their sleds, espied
the two, and, after gazing at them, broke forth in shouts:
“Hooraw for Count Blakisoff!” — “Hooray!” “Hooraw
for Imperial Highness!” and escorted them home
in triumph.