“Yea! And most gratefully. I’ve been trying to see Rudi since I came home. He and Derrydene were friends and he may be able to tell me where to find the man. But he’s elusive as a shadow in November!”
“Very fast on ’is stampers,” agreed Tummet, brashly entering the conversation as he set down the tray and unstoppered a decanter of cognac. “And a real top o’the trees. A quality gent to ’is toenails. Which is more’n I can say fer some.”
Fascinated by Rossiter’s unorthodox servant, Glendenning accepted a glass and asked, “Such as?”
“You ever bin to Falcon ’Ouse, me lord?” enquired Tummet, wiping a glass on his sleeve and eyeing it suspiciously before measuring cognac into it.
“Yes, I have. What has that to say to the matter?”
“Mr. August Falcon’s got a ’ound o’ the devil in that there ’ouse. Black as pitch, big as a bear, and twice as ugly. Come at me like ’e ’ad ’ider—ranger, or whatever it’s called.”
“Hydrophobia,” supplied Rossiter with a quirk of the lips.
“Ar. Tore the knee clean outta me new unmentionables, ’e done! And that there rosy-and-rare—”
For his lordship’s benefit, Rossiter interjected, “Nose in the air.”
“—of a butler, ’e says as Apollo is a very fine dawg! Very fine dawg me eye and Cleo-Patria!” Tummet thrust the glass at his employer. “’Ere, Guv. Sluice that over yer ivories.”
Glendenning could not hold back a laugh.
Rossiter groaned, then asked, “Do you, with all this roundaboutation, say that Mr. August Falcon isnota fine gentleman?”
“’Oo—me?” Tummet blinked and said piously, “Why, I’d never presoom to criticize me betters. All I’m a’saying of is, ’e’s better looking than ’is dawg. But twice as nasty.” Ignoring his lordship’s renewed hilarity, he fixed Rossiter with a minatory stare. “And not no one fer a gent t’be coming to cuffs with when said gent just come ’ome fulla ’oles!”
“Thank you,” said Rossiter, trying to be stern. “That will be all.”
“It’ll be all, all right,” said Tummet grimly.
“Damn your impudence! Go!”
Tummet looked aggrieved, and took himself off.
Still chuckling, Glendenning asked, “Whereeverdid you find him, Ross? Whitechapel? Westminster? Covent Garden?”
“Impertinent ruffian, isn’t he?”
“As the deuce! He was taking me to task when you arrived. In no uncertain terms.”
“Gad! What had you done to incur my fine valet’s displeasure?”
“Your fine valet! Your fine fishmonger more like! No, really, you cannot keep the fellow!”
“Why? D’you fancy he will lower my consequence? I have none. And to say truth, he amuses me. Now tell me how you have displeased him.”
“Simple. For all his—ah, peculiarities, he appears devoted to you, and he guessed why I came here.”
“Aha! You’ve word?”
“Falcon named Kadenworthy and Perry Cranford. They all are agreed that the choice of weapons is yours.” Rossiter raised his brows, and his lordship shrugged. “You struck him, after all.”
“Au contraire.I throttled him. And I believe I challenged him also.”
“Can’t do both, my pippin. Ain’t done. You attack. He challenges. You’ve choice of weapons, being the challenged. Pistols? You’re a damned good shot.”
Rossiter pursed his lips. “D’you think he’s up to swords? I don’t want to kill the silly fellow.”
Glendenning pointed out, “You ain’t terribly good with a sword, Ross.”
