Part 35 (1/2)
”I can easily imagine that in many cases regard for their personal safety would force them to it,” observed Mr. Lambert, drily.
”Precisely. And sir-I confess that heretofore you have known me under a name that-that is not my own.”
”Not your own!” roared Mr. Lambert. ”What the deuce do you mean sir? Not your own! Then whose is it?”
”No one's sir, believe me!” cried Hyacinth, backing away from the indignant old man. ”I invented it, sir-”
”And you mean to tell me that you have had the audacity to enjoy my hospitality under false pretences!-to say nothing of paying court to my daughter-”
”Pray, sir-one moment!” implored Hyacinth, wringing his hands. ”Oh, don't misunderstand me-”
”And will you have the goodness to tell me, sir, at once, _what_ and _who_ you are?” bellowed Mr. Lambert. ”Come, I won't tolerate your insolence.”
”Oh, my _dear_ Mr. Lambert, don't, _don't_ be hasty. I-I don't know what I am. But I-”
”What is your name, sir?” shouted Mr. Lambert.
”My name, sir, is-Winkler. P. Hyacinth Winkler. The P. stands for Pol-”
”Winkler!” gasped Mr. Lambert, ”_Winkler_!”
”Winkler!” murmured Elise, faintly.
”For Polybius,” continued Hyacinth, not heeding their e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns. ”I will conceal nothing from you sir. The P. stands for Polybius. My sponsors, not I, are to be blamed-”
”Winkler!” repeated Mr. Lambert.
”If you are afflicted with the same sensitiveness of the auditory nerve that nature bestowed on me,” went on Hyacinth, ”you cannot doubt that there is something in the combination of the word Winkler with the two polysyllabic names preceding it, which is grating, imperfect-”
”Winkler,” Mr. Lambert was still repeating monotonously.
”Yes, sir. I now perceive the cause of your astonishment. It is a name with which you have some connection-”
”Will you be good enough to tell me what part of the world you are from?” demanded Mr. Lambert.
”I was born in the state of Missouri, in the year 1895. My parents were people of consequence in a humble way. My father had for many years been the proprietor of a solid business in dyes and textiles-”
”My dear sir, I don't want your biography,” interrupted Mr. Lambert, but in a remarkably softened voice. ”Your father's name was-?”
”Samuel Winkler.”
”Samuel? And his father's?”
”John.”
”John-Johann! By Jove!” cried Mr. Lambert. And he began to rummage in the drawer of his desk, bringing to light the large scroll on which was traced the family tree of the Winklers. Just as he had unrolled it under Paul's eyes, he now unrolled it again, and eagerly began to trace the lines of twigs and branches.
”Here!” he exclaimed, ”Samuel Winkler-son of the first Johann-moves to Missouri in 1817-two sons, Ferdinand and Johann. Ferdinand died 1824.
Johann married, 1850-Samuel, your father, born 1857. Is that right, sir?”