The Grand Babylon Hotel, Arnold Bennett [ereader ebook .txt] 📗

the fact that Rocco was now pursuing his vocation honestly, decided to leave him alone. The one difficulty which Racksole experienced after the demise of Jules⁠—and it was a difficulty which he had, of course, anticipated⁠—was connected with the police. The police, very properly, wanted to know things. They desired to be informed what Racksole had been doing in the Dimmock affair, between his first visit to Ostend and his sending for them to take charge of Jules’ dead body. And Racksole was by no means inclined to tell them everything. Beyond question he had transgressed the laws of England, and possibly also the laws of Belgium; and the moral excellence of his motives in doing so was, of course, in the eyes of legal justice, no excuse for such conduct. The inquest upon Jules aroused some bother; and about ninety-and-nine separate and distinct rumours. In the end, however, a compromise was arrived at. Racksole’s first aim was to pacify the inspector whose clue, which by the way was a false one, he had so curtly declined to follow up. That done, the rest needed only tact and patience. He proved to the satisfaction of the authorities that he had acted in a perfectly honest spirit, though with a high hand, and that substantial justice had been done. Also, he subtly indicated that, if it came to the point, he should defy them to do their worst. Lastly, he was able, through the medium of the United States Ambassador, to bring certain soothing influences to bear upon the situation.

One afternoon, a fortnight after the recovery of the Hereditary Prince of Posen, Aribert, who was still staying at the Grand Babylon, expressed a wish to hold converse with the millionaire. Prince Eugen, accompanied by Hans and some Court officials whom he had sent for, had departed with immense éclat, armed with the comfortable million, to arrange formally for his betrothal.

Touching the million, Eugen had given satisfactory personal security, and the money was to be paid off in fifteen years.

“You wish to talk to me, Prince,” said Racksole to Aribert, when they were seated together in the former’s room.

“I wish to tell you,” replied Aribert, “that it is my intention to renounce all my rights and titles as a Royal Prince of Posen, and to be known in future as Count Hartz⁠—a rank to which I am entitled through my mother. Also that I have a private income of ten thousand pounds a year, and a château and a town house in Posen. I tell you this because I am here to ask the hand of your daughter in marriage. I love her, and I am vain enough to believe that she loves me. I have already asked her to be my wife, and she has consented. We await your approval.”

“You honour us, Prince,” said Racksole with a slight smile, “and in more ways than one. May I ask your reason for renouncing your princely titles?”

“Simply because the idea of a morganatic marriage would be as repugnant to me as it would be to yourself and to Nella.”

“That is good.” The Prince laughed. “I suppose it has occurred to you that ten thousand pounds per annum, for a man in your position, is a somewhat small income. Nella is frightfully extravagant. I have known her to spend sixty thousand dollars in a single year, and have nothing to show for it at the end. Why! she would ruin you in twelve months.”

“Nella must reform her ways,” Aribert said.

“If she is content to do so,” Racksole went on, “well and good! I consent.”

“In her name and my own, I thank you,” said Aribert gravely.

“And,” the millionaire continued, “so that she may not have to reform too fiercely, I shall settle on her absolutely, with reversion to your children, if you have any, a lump sum of fifty million dollars, that is to say, ten million pounds, in sound, selected railway stock. I reckon that is about half my fortune. Nella and I have always shared equally.”

Aribert made no reply. The two men shook hands in silence, and then it happened that Nella entered the room.

That night, after dinner, Racksole and his friend Félix Babylon were walking together on the terrace of the Grand Babylon Hotel.

Félix had begun the conversation.

“I suppose, Racksole,” he had said, “you aren’t getting tired of the Grand Babylon?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because I am getting tired of doing without it. A thousand times since I sold it to you I have wished I could undo the bargain. I can’t bear idleness. Will you sell?”

“I might,” said Racksole, “I might be induced to sell.”

“What will you take, my friend?” asked Félix.

“What I gave,” was the quick answer.

“Eh!” Félix exclaimed. “I sell you my hotel with Jules, with Rocco, with Miss Spencer. You go and lose all those three inestimable servants, and then offer me the hotel without them at the same price! It is monstrous.” The little man laughed heartily at his own wit. “Nevertheless,” he added, “we will not quarrel about the price. I accept your terms.”

And so was brought to a close the complex chain of events which had begun when Theodore Racksole ordered a steak and a bottle of Bass at the table d’hôte of the Grand Babylon Hotel.

Colophon

The Grand Babylon Hotel
was published in 1902 by
Arnold Bennett.

This ebook was produced for
Standard Ebooks
by
Robin Whittleton,
and is based on a transcription produced in 2001 by
David Reed and David Widger
for
Project Gutenberg
and on digital scans available at the
Internet Archive.

The cover page is adapted from
Le Chef de l’Hôtel Chatham, Paris,
a painting completed in 1921 by
William Orpen.
The cover and title pages feature the
League Spartan and Sorts Mill Goudy
typefaces created in 2014 and 2009 by
The League of Moveable Type.

The first edition of this ebook was released on
July 24, 2018, 10:23 p.m.
You can check for updates to this ebook, view its revision history,