Monsieur Beaucaire............................................................................................................................................1

Booth Tarkington .....................................................................................................................................1

The young Frenchman did very well what he had planned to do. His guess that the Duke would cheat proved

good. As the unshod halfdozen figures that had been standing noiselessly in the entryway stole softly into

the shadows of the chamber, he leaned across the table and smilingly plucked a card out of the big

The Englishman cried out, "It means the dirty work of silencing you with my bare hands!" and came at him.

"Do not move," said M. Beaucaire, so sharply that the other paused. "Observe behind you."

The Englishman turned, and saw what trap he had blundered into; then stood transfixed, impotent, alternately

scarlet with rage and white with the vital shame of discovery. M. Beaucaire remarked, indicating the silent

figures by a polite wave of the hand, "Is it not a compliment to monsieur that I procure six large men to

subdue him? They are quite devote' to me, and monsieur is alone. Could it be that he did not wish even his

lackeys to know he play with the yo'ng Frenchman who Meestaire Nash does not like in the pomproom?

The Duke's mouth foamed over with chaotic revilement. His captor smiled brightly, and made a slight

gesture, as one who brushes aside a boisterous insect. With the same motion he quelled to stony quiet a

M. Beaucaire lifted his shoulders in a mock shiver. "What words! No, no, no! No killing! A such word to a

such host! No, no, not murrder; only disgrace!" He laughed a clear, light laugh with a rising inflection,

"Tut, tut! But I forget. Monsieur has pursue' his studies of deportment amongs' his fellowcountrymen.

"Overwhelm'!" The young man bowed with imperturbable elation. "M. le Duc appoint' me to all the office' of

"You mustachioed fool, there are not five people of quality in Bath will speak to you "

"No, monsieur, not on the parade; but how many come to play with me here? Because I will play always,

"You outrageous varlet! Every one knows you came to England as the French Ambassador's barber. What

"All people, monsieur. Do you think I have not calculate', that I shall make a failure of my little enterprise?"

"Will monsieur not reseat himself?" M. Beaucaire made a low bow. "So. We must not be too tire' for Lady

Malbourne's rout. Ha, ha! And you, Jean, Victor, and you others, retire; go in the hallway. Attend at the

entrance, Francois. So; now we shall talk. Monsieur, I wish you to think very cool. Then listen; I will be

briefly. It is that I am well known to be all, entire' hones'. Gamblist? Ah, yes; true and mos profitable; but

fair, al ways fair; every one say that. Is it not so? Think of it. And is there never a w'isper come to M. le

Duc that not all people belief him to play al ways hones'? Ha, ha! Did it almos' be said to him las' year,

"Monsieur, monsieur!" said the Frenchman. "It is a poor valor to insult a helpless captor. Can he retort upon

his own victim? But it is for you to think of what I say. True, I am not reco'nize on the parade; that my frien's

who come here do not present me to their ladies; that Meestaire Nash has reboff' me in the pomproom; still,

am I not known for being hones' and fair in my play, and will I not be belief, even I, when I lif' my voice and

charge you aloud with what is already w'isper'? Think of it! You are a noble, and there will be some

hangdogs who might not fall away from you. Only such would be lef' to you. Do you want it tol'? And you

can keep out of France, monsieur? I have lef' his service, but I have still the ear of M. de Mirepoix, and he

The Englishman's white lip showed a row of scarlet dots upon it. "How much do you want?" he said.

The room rang with the gay laughter of Beaucaire. "I hol' your note' for sevenhunder' pound'. You can have

them, monsieur. Why does a such great man come to play M. Beaucaire? Because no one else willin' to play

M. le Duc he cannot pay. Ha, ha! So he come' to good Monsieur Beaucaire. Money, ha, ha! What I want

His Grace of Winterset's features were set awry to a sinister pattern. He sat glaring at his companion in a

"Money? Pouf!" snapped the little gambler. "No, no, no! It is that M. le Duc, impoverish', somewhat in a bad

M. Beaucaire twirled the tip of his slender mustache around the end of his white forefinger. Then he said:

"Certain. I make all my little plan'. 'Tis all arrange'." He paused, and then said gravely, "You goin' present me

The other laughed in utter scorn. "Lady Mary Carlisle, of all women alive, would be the first to prefer the

"'Tis all arrange'; have no fear; nobody question monsieur's You goin' take me tonight "

"Yes. And after then I have the entree. Is it much I ask? This one little favor, and I never w'isper, never

breathe that it is to say, I am always forever silent of monsieur's misfortune."

"You have the entree!" sneered the other. "Go to a lackeys' rout and dance with the kitchen maids. If I would,

I could not present you to Bath society. I should have cartels from the fathers, brothers, and lovers of every

wench and madam in the place, even I. You would be thrust from Lady Malbourne's door five minutes after

"Half the gentlemen in Bath have been here to play. They would know you, wouldn't they, fool? You've had

thousands out of Bantison, Rakell, Guilford, and Townbrake. They would have you lashed by the grooms as

your ugly deserts are. You to speak to Lady Mary Carlisle! 'Od's blood! You! Also, dolt, she would know you

if you escaped the others. She stood within a yard of you when Nash expelled you the pumproom."

"Do you dream that' because Winterset introduces a low fellow he will be tolerated that Bath will receive a

"I have the distinction to call monsieur's attention," replied the young man gayly, "I have renounce that

"A man of the parts," continued the the young Frenchman, "and of deportment; is it not so? Have you seen

me of a fluster, or gross ever, or, what sall I say bourgeois? Shall you be shame' for your guest' manner?

No, no! And my appearance, is it of the people? Clearly, no. Do I not compare in taste of apparel with your

yo'ng Englishman? Ha, ha! To be hope'. Ha, ha! So I am goin' talk with Lady Mary Carlisle."

"Bah!" The Duke made a savage burlesque. "'Lady Mary Carlisle, may I assume the honor of presenting the

"No, monsieur," smiled the young man. "Quite not so. You shall have nothing to worry you, nothing in the

worl'. I am goin' to assassinate my poor mustachio also remove this horrible black peruke, and emerge in

my own hair. Behol'!" He swept the heavy curled, mass from his head as he spoke, and his hair, coiled under

the great wig, fell to his shoulders, and sparkled yellow in the candlelight. He tossed his head to shake the

hair back from his cheeks. "When it is dress', I am transform nobody can know me; you shall observe. See

how little I ask of you, how very little bit. No one shall reco'nize 'M. Beaucaire' or 'Victor.' Ha, ha! 'Tis all

"Curse you," said the Duke, "do you think I'm going to be saddled with you wherever I go as long as you

"A mistake. No. All I requi All I beg is this one evening. 'Tis all shall be necessary. After, I shall not need

"Conquered!" cried M. Beaucaire, and clapped his hands gleefully. "Conquered for the night! Aha, it ts

riz'nable! I shall meet what you send after. One cannot hope too much of your patience. It is but natural you

should attemp' a little avengement for the rascal trap I was such a wicked fellow as to set for you. I shall meet

some strange frien's of yours after tonight; not so? I must try to be not too much frighten'." He looked at the

Duke curiously. "You want to know why I create this tragedy, why I am so unkind as to entrap monsieur?"

His Grace of Winterset replied with a chill glance; a pulse in the nobleman's cheek beat less relentlessly; his

eye raged not so bitterly; the steady purple of his own color was returning; his voice was less hoarse; he was

regaining his habit. "'Tis ever the manner of the vulgar," he observed, "to wish to be seen with people of

"Oh, no, no, no!" The Frenchman laughed. "'Tis not that. Am I not already one of these 'men of fashion'? I

lack only the reputation of birth. Monsieur is goin' supply that. Ha, ha! I shall be noble from tonight.

'Victor,' the artis', is condemn' to death; his throat shall be cut with his own razor. 'M. Beaucaire ' Here the

young man sprang to his feet, caught up the black wig, clapped into it a dicebox from the table, and hurled it

violently through the open door. "'M. Beaucaire' shall be choke' with his own dicebox. Who is the Phoenix

to remain? What advantage have I not over other men of rank who are merely born to it? I may choose my

own. No! Choose for me, monsieur. Shall I be chevalier, comte, vicomte, marquis, what? None. Out of

compliment to monsieur can I wish to be anything he is not? No, no! I shall be M. le Duc, M. le Duc de de

M. Beaucaire trod a dainty step or two, waving his hand politely to the Duke, as though in invitation to join

the celebration of his rank. The Englishman watched, his eye still and harsh, already gathering in craftiness.

Beaucaire stopped suddenly. "But how I forget my age! I am twentythree," he said, with a sigh. "I rejoice

too much to be of the quality. It has been too great for me, and I had always belief' myself free of such

ambition. I thought it was enough to behol' the opera without wishing to sing; but no, England have teach' me

I have those vulgar desire'. Monsieur, I am goin' tell you a secret: the ladies of your country are very diff'runt

than ours. One may adore the demoiselle, one must worship the lady of England. Our ladies have the it is

the beauty of youth; yours remain comely at thirty. Ours are flowers, yours are stars! See, I betray myself, I

am so poor a patriot. And there is one among these stars ah, yes, there is one the poor Frenchman has

observe' from his humble distance; even there he could bask in the glowing!" M. Beaucaire turned to the

window, and looked out into the dark. He did not see the lights of the town. When he turned again, he had

"Ah, what radiance!" he cried. "Those people up over the sky, they want to show they wish the earth to be

happy, so they smile, and make this lady. Goldhaired, an angel of heaven, and yet a Diana of the chase! I

see her fly by me on her great horse one day; she touch' his mane with her fingers. I buy that clipping from

the groom. I have it here with my dear brother's picture. Ah, you! Oh, yes, you laugh! What do you know!

'Twas all I could get. But I have heard of the endeavor of M. le Duc to recoup his fortunes. This alliance shall

fail. It is not the way that heritage shall be safe' from him! It is you and me, monsieur! You can laugh! The

war is open', and by me! There is one great step taken: until tonight there was nothing for you to ruin,

tomorrow you have got a noble of France your own protege to besiege and sack. And you are to lose,

because you think such ruin easy, and because you understand nothing far less of divinity. How could

you know? You have not the fiber; the heart of a lady is a blank to you; you know nothing of the vibration.

There are some words that were made only to tell of Lady Mary, for her alone bellissima, divine, glorieuse!

Ah, how I have watch' her! It is sad to me when I see her surround' by your yo'ng captains, your nobles, your

rattles, your beaux ha, ha! and I mus' hol' far aloof. It is sad for me but oh, jus' to watch her and to

wonder! Strange it is, but I have almos' cry out with rapture at a look I have see' her give another man, so

beautiful it was, so tender, so dazzling of the eyes and so mirthful of the lips. Ah, divine coquetry! A look for

another, ahi me! for many others; and even to you, one day, a rose, while I I, monsieur, could not even

be so blessed as to be the groun' beneath her little shoe! But tonight, monsieur ha, ha! tonight,

monsieur, you and me, two princes, M. le Duc de Winterset and M. le Duc de Chateaurien ha, ha! you see ?

we are goin' arminarm to that ball, and I am goin' have one of those looks, I! And a rose! I! It is time.

But ten minute', nonsieur. I make my apology to keep you waitin' so long while I go in the nex' room and

execute my poor mustachio that will be my only murder for jus' this one evening and inves' myself in

white satin. Ha, ha! I shall be very gran', monsieur. Francois, send Louis to me; Victor, to order two chairs for

The chairmen swarmed in the street at Lady Malbourne's door, where the joyous vulgar fought with muddied

footmen and tipsy linkboys for places of vantage whence to catch a glimpse of quality and of raiment at its

utmost. Dawn was in the east, and the guests were departing. Singly or in pairs, glittering in finery, they came

mincing down the steps, the ghost of the night's smirk fading to jadedness as they sought the dark recesses of

their chairs. From within sounded the twang of fiddles still swinging manfully at it, and the windows were

bright with the light of many candles. When the door was flung open to call the chair of Lady Mary Carlisle,

A small, fair gentleman in white satin came out upon the steps, turned and bowed before a lady who appeared

in the doorway, a lady whose royal loveliness was given to view for a moment in that glowing frame. The

The gentleman smiled upon them delightedly. "What enchanting peopie!" he cried. "Why did I not know, so I

might have shout' with them?" The lady noticed the people not at all; whereat, being pleased, the people

cheered again. The gentleman offered her his hand; she made a slow courtesy; placed the tips of her fingers

"No, no!" he cried earnestly. "Behol' a poor Frenchman whom emperors should envy." Then reverently and

with the pride of his gallant office vibrant in every line of his slight figure, invested in white satin and very

grand, as he had prophesied, M. le Duc de Chateaurien handed Lady Mary Carlisle down the steps, an

achievement which had figured in the ambitions of seven other gentlemen during the evening.

"Am I to be lef'in such onhappiness?" he said in a low voice. "That rose I have beg' for so long "

"It is the greatness of my onworthiness that alone can claim your charity; let your kin' heart give this little red

She was seated in the chair. "Ah, give the rose," he whispered. Her beauty shone dazzlingly on him out of the

Turning, M. de Chateaurien looked beamingly upon the face of the Duke of Winterset.

"'Tis already the daylight," he replied, pointing to the east. "Monsieur, was it not enough honor for you to

han' out madame, the aunt of Lady Mary? Lady Rellerton retain much trace of beauty. 'Tis strange you did

"The color of the veins of a Frenchman. Ha, ha!" cried the young man. "What price would be too high? A

rose is a rose! A goodnight, my brother, a goodnight. I wish you dreams of roses, red roses, only beautiful

"Stay! Did you see the look she gave these street folk when they shouted for her? And how are you higher

It was well agreed by the fashion of Bath that M. le Duc de Chateaurien was a person of sensibility and haut

ton; that his retinue and equipage surpassed in elegance; that his person was exquisite, his manner engaging.

In the company of gentlemen his ease was slightly tinged with graciousness (his single equal in Bath being

his Grace of Winterset); but it was remarked that when he bowed over a lady's hand, his air bespoke only a

He was the idol of the dowagers within a week after his appearance; matrons warmed to him; young belles

looked sweetly on him, while the gentlemen were won to admiration or envy. He was of prodigious wealth:

old Mr. Bicksit, who dared not, for his fame's sake, fail to have seen all things, had visited Chateaurien under

the present Duke's father, and descanted to the curious upon its grandeurs. The young noble had one fault, he

was so poor a gambler. He cared nothing for the hazards of a die or the turn of a card. Gayly admitting that he

had been born with no spirit of adventure in him, he was sure, he declared, that he failed of much happiness

But he was not long wanting the occasion to prove his taste in the matter of handling a weapon. A certain

ledcaptain, Rohrer by name, notorious, amongst other things, for bearing a dexterous and bloodthirsty blade,

came to Bath posthaste, one night, and jostled heartily against him, in the pumproom on the following

morning. M. de Chauteaurien bowed, and turned aside without offense, continuing a conversation with some

gentlemen near by. Captain Rohrer jostled against him a second time. M. de Chateaurien looked him in the

eye, and apologized pleasantly for being so much in the way. Thereupon Rohrer procured an introduction to

him, and made some observations derogatory to the valor and virtue of the French. There was current a

curious piece of gossip of the French court: a prince of the blood royal, grandson of the late Regent and

second in the line of succession to the throne of France, had rebelled against the authority of Louis XV, who

had commanded him to marry the Princess Henriette, cousin to both of them. The princess was reported to be

openly devoted to the cousin who refused to accept her hand at the bidding of the king; and, as rumor ran, the

prince's caprice elected in preference the discipline of Vincennes, to which retirement the furious king had

consigned him. The story was the staple gossip of all polite Europe; and Captain Rohrer, having in his mind a

purpose to make use of it in leading up to a statement that should be general to the damage of all

Frenchwomen, and which a Frenchman might not pass over as he might a jog of the elbow, repeated it with

garbled truths to make a scandal of a story which bore none on a plain relation.

He did not reach his deduction. M. de Chateaurien, breaking into his narrative, addressed him very quietly.

"Monsieur," he said, "none but swine deny the nobleness of that good and gentle lady, Mademoiselle la

Princesse de BourbonConti. Every Frenchman know' that her cousin is a bad rebel and ingrate, who had

only honor and rispec' for her, but was so wilful he could not let even the king say, 'You shall marry here, you

shall marry there.' My frien's," the young man turned to the others, "may I ask you to close roun' in a circle

for one moment? It is clearly shown that the Duke of Orleans is a scurvy fellow, but not " he wheeled about

and touched Captain Rohrer on the brow with the back of his gloved hand " but not so scurvy as thou, thou

Two hours later, with perfect ease, he ran Captain Rohrer through the left shoulder after which he sent a

basket of red roses to the Duke of Winterset. In a few days he had another captain to fight. This was a ruffling

buck who had the astounding indiscretion to proclaim M. de Chateaurien an impostor. There was no

Chateaurien, he swore. The Frenchman laughed in his face, and, at twilight of the same day, pinked him

carefully through the right shoulder. It was not that he could not put aside the insult to himself, he declared to

Mr. Molyneux, his second, and the few witnesses, as he handed his wet sword to his lackey one of his

station could not be insulted by a doubt of that station but he fought in the quarrel of his friend Winterset.

This rascal had asserted that M. le Duc had introduced an impostor. Could he overlook the insult to a friend,

one to whom he owed his kind reception in Bath? Then, bending over his fallen adversary, he whispered:

"Naughty man, tell your master find some better quarrel for the nex' he sen' agains' me."

There was no surprise when the young foreigner fell naturally into the long train of followers of the beautiful

Lady Mary Carlisle, nor was there great astonishment that he should obtain marked favor in her eyes, shown

so plainly that my Lord Townbrake, Sir Hugh Guilford, and the rich Squire Bantison, all of whom had

followed her through three seasons, swore with rage, and his Grace of Winterset stalked from her aunt's

Meeting the Duke there on the evening after his second encounter de Chateaurien smiled upon him brilliantly.

"It was badly done; oh, so badly!" he whispered. "Can you afford to have me strip' of my mask by any but

yourself? You, who introduce' me? They will say there is some bad scandal that I could force you to be my

"Oh, those roses! 'Tis the very greates' rizzon to gather each day a fresh one." He took a red bud from his

"M. de Chateaurien!" It was Lady Mary's voice; she stood at a table where a vacant place had been left beside

The Duke saw the look she did not know she gave the Frenchman, and he lost countenance for a moment.

There fell a clear September night, when the moon was radiant over town and country, over cobbled streets

and winding roads. From the fields the mists rose slowly, and the air was mild and fragrant, while distances

were white and full of mystery. All of Bath that pretended to fashion or condition was present that evening at

a fete at the house of a country gentleman of the neighborhood. When the stately junket was concluded, it

was the pleasure of M. de Chateaurien to form one of the escort of Lady Mary's carriage for the return. As

they took the road, Sir Hugh Guilford and Mr. Bantison, engaging in indistinct but vigorous remonstrance

with Mr. Molyneux over some matter, fell fifty or more paces behind, where they continued to ride, keeping

up their argument. Half a dozen other gallants rode in advance, muttering among themselves, or attended

laxly upon Lady Mary's aunt on the other side of the coach, while the happy Frenchman was permitted to ride

He sang for her a little French song, a song of the voyageur who dreamed of home. The lady, listening,

looking up at the bright moon, felt a warm drop upon her cheek, and he saw the tears sparkling upon her

"Mademoiselle," he whispered then, "I, too, have been a wanderer, but my dreams were not of France; no, I

do not dream of that home, of that dear country. It is of a dearer country, a dream country a country of gold

and snow," he cried softly, looking it her white brow and the fair, lightly powdered hair above it. "Gold and

"Cruel! It is that she will not understan'! Have I speak of the ladies of France? No, no, no! It is of the faires'

country; yes, 'tis a province of heaven, mademoiselle. Do I not renounce my allegiance to France? Oh, yes! I

am subjec' no, content to be slave in the lan' of the blue sky, the gold, and the snow.

"A very pretty figure," answered Lady Mary, her eyes downcast. "But does it not hint a notable experience in

"We English ladies hear plenty of the like sir; and we even grow brilliant enough to detect the assurance that

"Merci! I should believe so!" ejaculated M. de Chateaurien: but he smothered the words upon his lips.

Her eyes were not lifted. She went on: "We come, in time, to believe that true feeling comes faltering forth,

not glibly; that smoothness betokens the adept in the art, sir, rather than your true your true " She was

herself faltering; more, blushing deeply, and halting to a full stop in terror of a word. There was a silence.

"Your true lover," he said huskily. When he had said that word both trembled. She turned half away into

"I know what make' you to doubt me," he said, faltering himself, though it was not his art that prompted him.

"They have tol' you the French do nothing al ways but make love, is it not so? Yes, you think I am like that.

"I suppose," he sighed, "I am unriz'nable; I would have the snow not so col' for jus' me."

The fragrance of the fields came to them, and from the distance the faint, clear note of a huntinghorn.

The lovely head was bent very low. Her little gloved hand lay upon the narrow window ledge. He laid his

own gently upon it. The two hands were shaking like twin leaves in the breeze. Hers was not drawn away.

After a pause, neither knew how long, he felt the warm fingers turn and clasp themselves tremulously about

his own. At last she looked up bravely and met his eyes. The horn was wound again nearer.

"My beautiful!" he whispered; it was all he could say. "My beautiful!" But she clutched his arm, startled.

"'Ware the road!" A wild halloo sounded ahead. The horn wound loudly. "'Ware the road!" There sprang up

out of the night a flying thunder of hoofbeats. The gentlemen riding idly in front of the coach scattered to

the hedgesides; and, with drawn swords flashing in the moon, a party of horsemen charged down the

"A moi!" his voice rang out clearly as he rose in his stirrups. "A moi, Francois, Louis, Berquin! A moi,

The cavaliers came straight at him. He parried the thrust of the first, but the shock of collision hurled his

horse against the side of the coach. "Sacred swine!" he cried bitterly. "To endanger a lady, to make this brawl

The Frenchman's assailants were masked, but they were not highwaymen. "Barber! Barber!" they shouted

"See how he use his steel!" laughed M. Beaucaire, as his point passed through a tawdry waistcoat. For a

moment he cut through the ring and cleared a space about him, and Lady Mary saw his face shining in the

moonlight. "Canaille!" he hissed, as his horse sank beneath him; and, though guarding his head from the rain

of blows from above, he managed to drag headlong from his saddle the man who had hamstrung the poor

"Is it not a compliment," said a heavy voice, "to bring six large men to subdue monsieur?"

"Oh, you are there, my frien'! In the rear a little in the rear, I think. Ha, ha!"

The Frenchman's play with his weapon was a revelation of skill, the more extraordinary as he held in his hand

only a light dress sword. But the ring closed about him, and his keen defense could not avail him for more

than a few moments. Lady Mary's outriders, the gallants of her escort, rode up close to the coach and

"Sir Hugh Guilford!" cried Lady Mary wildly, "if you will not help him, give me your sword!" She would

"If he does, I'll kill him!" she said fiercely. "Ah, what cowards! Will you see the Duke murdered?"

"The Duke!" laughed Guilford. "They will not kill him, unless be easy, dear madam, 'twill be explained.

Gad's life!" he muttered to Molyneux, "'Twere time the varlet had his lashing! D'ye hear her?"

"Barber or no barber," answered Molyneux, "I wish I had warned him. He fights as few gentlemen could. Ah

On foot, his hat gone, his white coat sadly rent and gashed, flecked, too, with red, M. Beaucgjre, wary, alert,

brilliant, seemed to transform himself into a dozen fencingmasters; and, though his skill appeared to lie in

delicacy and quickness, his play being continually with the point, sheer strength failed to beat him down. The

For a moment there was even a chance that M. Beaucaire might have the best of it. Two of his adversaries

were prostrate, more than one were groaning, and the indomitable Frenchman had actually almost beat off the

ruffians, when, by a trick, he was overcome. One of them, dismounting, ran in suddenly from behind, and

seized his blade in a thick leather gauntlet. Before Beaucaire could disengage the weapon, two others threw

themselves from their horses and hurled him to the earth. "A moi! A moi, Francois!" he cried as he went

"'Twas dastardly to take him so, said Molyneux. "Whatever his deservings, I'm nigh of a mind to offer bim a

"Truss him up, lads," said the heavy voice. Clear the way in front of the coach. There sit those whom we

avenge upon a presumptuous lackey. Now, Whiffen, you have a fair audience, lay on and baste him."

Two men began to drag M. Beaucaire toward a great oak by the roadside. Another took from his saddle a

There was borne on the breeze an answer " Monseigneur! Monseigneur!" The cry grew louder suddenly.

The clatter of hoofs urged to an anguish of speed sounded on the night. M. Beaucaire's servants had lagged

sorely behind, but they made up for it now. Almost before the noise of their own steeds they came riding

down the moonlit aisle between the mists. Chosen men, these servants of Beaucaire, and like a thunderbolt

"Chateaurien! Chateaurien!" they shouted, and smote so swiftly that, through lack of time, they showed no

proper judgment, discriminating nothing between noncombatants and their master's foes. They charged first

into the group about M. Beaucaire, and broke and routed it utterly. Two of them leaped to the young man's

side, while the other four, swerving, scarce losing the momentum of their onset, bore on upon the gentlemen

near the coach, who went down beneath the fierceness of the onslaught, cursing manfully.

Sir Hugh Guilford's horse fell with him, being literally ridden over, and the baronet's leg was pinned under

the saddle. In less than ten minutes from the first attack on M. Beaucaire, the attacking party had fled in

disorder, and the patrician noncombatants, choking with expletives, consumed with wrath, were prisoners,

Guilford's discomfiture had freed the doors of the coach; so it was that when M. Beaucaire, struggling to rise,

assisted by his servants, threw out one hand to balance himself, he found it seized between two small, cold

palms, and he looked into two warm, dilating eyes, that were doubly beautiful because of the fright and rage

M. le Duc Chateaurien sprang to his feet without the aid of his lackeys, and bowed low before Lady Mary.

"I make ten thousan' apology to be' the cause of a such melee in your presence," he said; and then, turning to

Francois, he spoke in French: "Ah, thou scoundrel! A little, and it had been too late."

Francois knelt in the dust before him. "Pardon!" he said. "Monseigneur commanded us to follow far in the

rear, to remain unobserved. The wind malignantly blew against monseigneur's voice."

"See what it might have cost, my children," said his master, pointing to the ropes with which they would have

bound him and to the whip lying beside them. A shudder passed over the lackey's frame; the utter horror in

"No. And you did very well, my children " the young man smiled benevolently "very well. And now," he

continued, turning to Lady Mary and speaking in English, "let me be asking of our gallants yonder what

make' them to be in cabal with highwaymen. One should come to a polite understanding with them, you

He bowed, offering his hand to conduct her to the coach, where Molyneux and his companions, having drawn

Sir Hugh from under his horse, were engaged in reviving and reassuring Lady Rellerton, who had fainted.

But Lady Mary stayed Beaucaire with a gesture, and the two stood where they were.

"Monseigneur!" she said, with a note of raillery in her voice, but raillery so tender that he started with

happiness. His movement brought him a hot spasm of pain, and he clapped his hand to a red stain on his

"It is nothing," smiled M. Beaucaire. Then, that she might not see the stain spreading, he held his

handkerchief over the spot. "I am a little but jus' a trifling bruise'; 'tis all."

"You shall ride in the coach," she whispered. "Will you be pleased, M. de Chateaurien?"

"Ah, my beautiful!" She seemed to wave before him like a shining mist. "I wish that ride might las' for al

"Monseigneur," she cried in a passion of admiration, "I would what you would have be, should be. What do

"Would that a few Englishmen had shown themselves as 'poor' tonight. The vile cowards, not to help you!"

With that, suddenly possessed by her anger, she swept away from him to the coach.

"My little poltroons," she said, "what are you doing with your fellowcraven, Sir Hugh Guilford, there?"

"Madam," replied Molyneux humbly, "Sir Hugh's leg is broken. Lady Rellerton graciously permits him to be

"Sir! Leave the wretch to groan by the roadside," she cried fiercely, "which plight I would were that of all of

you! But there will be a pretty story for the gossips tomorrow! And I could almost find pity for you when I

think of the wits when you return to town. Fine gentlemen you; hardy bravos, by heaven! to leave one man to

meet a troop of horse singlehanded, while you huddle in shelter until you are overthrown and disarmed by

"Address me no more! M. de Chateaurien, Lady Rellerton and I will greatly esteem the honor of your

She stepped quickly into the coach, and was gathering her skirts to make room for the Frenchman, when a

The Duke of Winterset rode out into the moonlight, composedly untieing a mask from about his head. He had

not shared the flight of his followers, but had retired into the shade of the oak, whence he now made his

"No, no," laughed M. Beaucaire, somewhat unsteadily, as he stood, swaying a little, with one hand on the

coachdoor, the other pressed hard on his side, "he only oversee'; he is jus' a little bashful, sometime'. He is a

"Barber," replied the Duke, "I must tell you that I gladly descend to bandy words with you; your monstrous

impudence is a claim to rank I cannot ignore. But a lackey who has himself followed by six other lackeys "

"Ha, ha! Has not M. le Duc been busy all this evening to justify me? And I think mine mus' be the bes' six.

"Pardon," he replied. "He has something to say; maybe it is bes' if you hear it now."

"My faith, madam," cried the Duke, "this saucy fellow has paid you the last insult! He is so sure of you he

does not fear you will believe the truth. When all is told, if you do not agree he deserved the lashing we

"Then let him be brief," said Lady Mary, "for I am earnest to be quit of him. His explanation or an attack on

"Alas that he was not here," said the Duke, "to aid me! Madam, was your carriage threatened? I have

endeavored only to expunge a debt I owed to Bath and to avenge an insult offered to yourself through "

"A thousan' apology," said M. Beaucaire. "You will listen, I only beg, Lady Mary?"

"Madam, I will be brief as I may. Two months ago there came to Bath a French gambler calling himself

Beaucaire, a desperate fellow with the cards or dice, and all the men of fashion went to play at his lodging,

where he won considerable sums. He was small, wore a black wig and mustachio. He had the insolence to

show himself everywhere until the Master of Ceremonies rebuffed him in the pumproom, as you know, and

after that he forbore his visits to the rooms. Mr. Nash explained (and was confirmed, madam, by indubitable

information) that this Beaucaire was a man of unspeakable, vile, low birth, being, in fact, no other than a

lackey of the French king's ambassador, Victor by name, de Mirepoix's barber. Although his condition was

known, the hideous impudence of the fellow did not desert him, and he remained in Bath, where none would

"A few moments, madam. One evening, three weeks gone, I observed a very elegant equipage draw up to my

door, and the Duke of Chateaurien was announced. The young man's manners were worthy according to the

French acceptance and 'twere idle to deny him the most monstrous assurance. He declared himself a noble

traveling for pleasure. He had taken lodgings in Bath for a season, he said, and called at once to pay his

respects to me. His tone was so candid in truth, I am the simplest of men, very easily gulled and his

stroke so bold, that I did not for one moment suspect him; and, to my poignant regret though in the

humblest spirit I have shown myself eager to atone that very evening I had the shame of presenting him to

"Have patience, pray, madam. Ay, the shame! You know what figure he hath cut in Bath since that evening.

All ran merrily with him until several days ago Captain Badger denounced him as an impostor, vowing that

"Pardon," interrupted M. Beaucaire. "'Castle Nowhere' would have been so much better. Why did you not

Lady Mary started; she was looking at the Duke, and her face was white. He continued: "Poor Captam

" And his adversary had the marvelous insolence to declare that he fought in my quarrel! This afternoon

the wounded man sent for me, and imparted a very horrifying intelligence. He had discovered a lackey whom

he had seen waiting upon Beaucaire in attendance at the door of this Chateaurien's lodging. Beaucaire had

disappeared the day before Chateaurien's arrival. Captain Badger looked closely at Chateaurien at their next

meeting, and identified him with the missing Beaucaire beyond the faintest doubt. Overcome with

indignation, he immediately proclaimed the impostor. Out of regard for me, he did not charge him with being

Beaucaire; the poor soul was unwilling to put upon me the humiliation of having introduced a barber; but the

secret weighed upon him till he sent for me and put everything in my hands. I accepted the odium; thinking

only of atonement. I went to Sir John Wimpledon's fite. I took poor Sir Hugh, there, and these other

gentlemen aside, and told them my news. We narrowly observed this man, and were shocked at our

simplicity in not having discovered him before. These are men of honor and cool judgment, madam. Mr.

Molyneux had acted for him in the affair of Captain Badger, and was strongly prejudiced in his favor; but Mr.

Molyneux, Sir Hugh, Mr. Bantison, every one of them, in short, recognized him. In spite of his smooth face

and his light hair, the adventurer Beaucaire was writ upon him amazing plain. Look at him, madam, if he will

dare the inspection. You saw this Beaucaire well, the day of his expulsion from the rooms. Is not this he?"

"One moment more. I begged these gentlemen to allow me to wipe out the insult I had unhappily offered to

Bath, but particularly to you. They agreed not to forestall me or to interfere. I left Sir John Wimpledon's

early, and arranged to give the sorry rascal a lashing under your own eyes, a satisfaction due the lady into

"And now, madam," said the Duke, "I will detain you not one second longer. I plead the good purpose of my

intentions, begging you to believe that the desire to avenge a hateful outrage, next to the wish to serve you,

Lady Mary leaned toward him, a thriving terror in her eyes. "It is false?" she faltered.

"'Od's blood, is she not convinced?" broke out Mr. Bantison. "Fellow, were you not the ambassador's

"The mos' fine art, mademoiselle. How long you think it take M. de Winterset to learn that speech after he

write it out? It is a mix of what is true and the mos' chaste art. Monsieur has become a man of letters. Perhaps

Mr. Bantison burst into a roar of laughter. "Do French gentlemen fight lackeys? Ho, ho, ho! A pretty country!

"And attend ourselves," added M. Beaucaire, looking at the Duke, "somewhat in the background? But,

pardon," he mocked, "that remind' me. Francois, return to Mr. Bantison and these gentlemen their weapons."

"Pah!" exclaimed Bantison. "Let me question him. Now, fellow, a confession may save you from jail. Do you

"Ha!" said Bantison. "What more do you want, Molyneux? Fellow, do you deny that you came to London in

"Yes, my frien', as his barber." Lady Mary cried out faintly, and, shuddering, put both hands over her eyes.

"I wish " continued Molyncux, hesitating. "Evil take me! but I'm sorry you're hurt."

"Farewell, mademoiselle!" M. Beaucaire's voice was very faint. His eyes were fixed upon her face. She did

They were propping Sir Hugh on the cushions. The Duke rode up close to Beaucaire, but Francois seized his

"Curse your insolence!" exclaimed the Duke. "How much am I to bear from this varlet and his varlets?

Beaucaire, if you have not left Bath by tomorrow noon, you will be clapped into jail, and the lashing you

"I shall bein the Assemily Room' at nine o'clock, one week from tonight," answered the young

man, smiling jauntily, though his lips were colorless. The words cost him nearly all his breath and strength.

"You mus' keep in the backgroun', monsieur. Ha, ha!" The door of the coach closed with a slam.

M. Beaucaire followed the cariiage with his eyes. As the noise of the wheels and the hoofbeats of the

accompanying cavalcade grew fainter in the distance, the handkerchief he had held against his side dropped

Beau Nash stood at the door of the rooms, smiling blandly upon a dainty throng in the pink of its finery and

gay furbelows. The great exquisite bent his body constantly in a series of consummately adjusted bows:

before a great dowager, seeming to sweep the floor in august deference; somewhat stately to the young

bucks; greeting the wits with gracous friendliness and a twinkle of raillery; inclining with fatherly gallantry

before the beauties; the degree of his inclination measured the altitude of the recipient as accurately as a

The King of Bath was happy, for wit, beauty, fashion to speak more concretely: nobles, belles, gamesters,

beaux, statesmen, and poets made fairyland (or opera bouffe, at least) in his dominions; play ran higher and

higher, and Mr. Nash's coffers filled up with gold. To crown his pleasure, a prince of the French blood, the

young Comte de Beaujolais, just arrived from Paris, had reached Bath at noon in state, accompanied by the

Marquis de Mirepoix, the ambassador of Louis XV. The Beau dearly prized the society of the lofty, and the

present visit was an honor to Bath: hence to the Master of Ceremonies. What was better, there would be some

profitable hours with the cards and dice. So it was that Mr. Nash smiled never more benignly than on that

bright evening. The rooms rang with the silvery voices of women and delightful laughter, while the fiddles

The skill and brazen effrontery of the ambassador's scoundrelly servant in passing himself off for a man of

condition formed the point of departure for every conversation. It was discovered that there were but three

persons present who had not suspected him from the first; and, by a singular paradox, the most astute of all

proved to be old Mr. Bicksit, the traveler, once a visitor at Chateaurien; for he, according to report, had by a

coup of diplomacy entrapped the impostor into an admission that there was no such place. However, like poor

Captain Badger, the worthy old man had held his peace out of regard for the Duke of Winterset. This

nobleman, heretofore secretly disliked, suspected of irregular devices at play, and never admired, had won

admiration and popularity by his remorse for the mistake, and by the modesty of his attitude in endeavoring

to atone for it, without presuming upon the privilege of his rank to laugh at the indignation of society; an

action the more praiseworthy because his exposure of the impostor entailed the disclosure of his own

culpability in having stood the villain's sponsor. Tonight, the happy gentleman, with Lady Mary Carlisle

upon his arm, went grandly about the rooms, sowing and reaping a harvest of smiles. 'Twas said work would

be begun at once to rebuild the Duke's country seat, while several ruined Jews might be paid out of prison.

People gazing on the beauty and the stately but modest hero by her side, said they would make a noble pair.

She had long been distinguished by his attentions, and he had come brilliantly out of the episode of the

Frenchman, who had been his only real rival. Wherever they went, there arose a buzz of pleasing gossip and

adulation. Mr. Nash, seeing them near him, came forward with greetings. A word on the side passed between

"I had news of the rascal tonight," whispered Nash. "He lay at a farm till yesterday, when he disappeared; his

"Fourteen bailiffs are watching without. He could not come within gunshot. If they clap eyes on him, they

will hustle him to jail, and his cutthroats shall not avail him a hair's weight. The impertinent swore he'd be

Many of the crowd had edged up to the two gentlemen with apparent carelessness, to overhear their

conversation. Those who did overhear repeated it in covert asides, and this circulating undertone, confirming

a vague rumor that Beaucaire would attempt the entrance that night, lent a pleasurable color of excitement to

the evening. The French prince, the ambassador, and their suites were announced. Polite as the assembly was.

it was also curious, and there occurred a mannerly rush to see the newcomers. Lady Mary, already pale, grew

whiter as the throng closed round her; she looked up pathetically at the Duke, who lost no time in extricating

"Wait here," he said; "I will fetch you a glass of negus," and disappeared. He had not thought to bring a chair,

and she, looking about with an increasing faintness and finding none, saw that she was standing by the door

of a small sideroom. The crowd swerved back for the passage of the legate of France, and pressed upon her.

The room was empty save for two gentlemen, who were quietly playing cards at a table. They looked up as

She uttered a quick cry and leaned against the wall, her hand to her breast. Beaucaire, though white and weak,

"Do not touch me!" she said, with such frozen abhorrence in her voice that he stopped short. "Mr. Molyneux,

"Madam," replied Molyneux, bowing deeply, as much to Beaucaire as to herself, "I am honored by the

"Will you add your ruin to the scandal of this fellow's presence here? How he obtained entrance "

"Pardon, mademoiselle," interrupted Beaucaire. "Did I not say I should come? M. Molyneux was so obliging

as to answer for me to the fourteen frien's of M. de Winterset and Meestaire Nash."

"Do you not know," she turned vehemently upon Molyneux, "that he will be removed the moment I leave this

room? Do you wish to be dragged out with him? For your sake, sir, because I have always thought you a man

of heart, I give you a chance to save yourself from disgrace and your companion from jail. Let him slip

out by some retired way, and you may give me your arm and we will enter the next room as if nothing had

"Mr. Molyneux, I desire to hear nothing from your companion. Had I not seen you at cards with him I should

have supposed him in attendance as your lackey. Do you desire to take advantage of my offer, sir?"

"You may inform your highborn friend, Mr. Molyneux, that I heard everything he had to say; that my pride

"Ah, it is gentle to taunt one with his birth, mademoiselle? Ah, no! There is a man in my country who say

"You may inform your friend, Mr. Molyneux, that he had a chance to defend himself against accusation; that

"That I did say all I could have strength to say. Mademoiselle, you did not see as it was right that I had

been stung by a big wasp. It was nothing, a scratch; but, mademoiselle, the sky went round and the moon

dance' on the earth. I could not wish that big wasp to see he had stung me; so I mus' only say what I can have

strength for, and stand straight till he is gone. Beside', there are other rizzons. Ah, you mus' belief! My

Molyneux I sen' for, and tell him all, because he show courtesy to the yo'ng Frenchman, and I can trus' him. I

trus' you, mademoiselle long ago and would have tol' you ev'rything, excep' jus' because well, for the

romance, the fon! You belief? It is so clearly so; you do belief, mademoiselle?"

She did not even look at him. M. Beaucaire lifted his hand appealingly toward her. "Can there be no faith in

"If you had not belief' me to be an impostor; if I had never said I was Chateaurien; if I had been jus' that

Monsieur Beaucaire of the story they tol' you, but never with the heart of a lackey, an hones' man, a man, the

man you knew, himself, could you would you " He was trying to speak firmly; yet, as he gazed upon her

splendid beauty, he choked slightly, and fumbled in the lace at his throat with unsteady fingers. "Would

you have let me ride by your side in the autumn moonlight?" Her glance passed by him as it might have

passed by a footman or a piece of furniture. He was dressed magnificently, a multitude of orders glittering on

"MademoiselleI have the honor to ask you: if you had known this Beaucaire was hones', though of peasant

Involuntarily, controlled as her icy presence was, she shuddered. There was a moment of silence.

"Mr. Molyneux," said Lady Mary, "in spite of your discourtesy in allowing a servant to address me, I offer

Beaucaire dropped into a chair with his head bent low and his arm outstretched on the table; his eyes filled

In the outer room, Winterset, unable to find Lady Mary, and supposing her to have joined Lady Rellerton,

disposed of his negus, then approached the two visitors to pay his respects to the young prince, whom he

discovered to be a stripling of seventeen, arrogant looking, but pretty as a girl. Standing beside the Marquis

de Mirepoix a man of quiet bearing he was surrounded by a group of the great, among whom Mr. Nash

naturally counted himself. The Beau was felicitating himself that the foreigners had not arrived a week

earlier, in which case he and Bath would have been detected in a piece of gross ignorance concerning the

"'Tis a lucky thing that fellow was got out of the way," he ejaculated, under cover.

An attendant begged Mr. Nash's notice. The head bailiff sent word that Beaucaire had long since entered the

building by a side door. It was supposed Mr. Nash had known of it, and the Frenchman was not arrested, as

Mr. Molyneux was in his company, and said he would be answerable for him. Consternation was so plain on

Mr. Bantison, who had been fiercely elbowing his way toward them, joined heads with them. "You may well

say he is in," he exclaimed "and if you want to know where, why, in yonder cardroom. I saw him through

"Then listen to me," said the Duke. "I'll select halfadozen gentlemen, explain the matter, and we'll put him

in the center of us and take him out to the bailiffs. 'Twill appear nothing. Do you remain here and keep the

attention of Beaujolais and de Mirepoix. Come, Bantison, fetch Townbrake and Harry Rakell yonder; I'll

Three minutes later, his Grace of Winterset flung wide the cardroom door, and, after his friends had entered,

The Duke, seeing Lady Mary, started; but the angry signs of her interview had not left her face, and reassured

"If this is to be known, 'twill be better if I leave after; I should be observed if I went now."

"As you will, madam," he answered, not displeased. "And now, you impudent villain," he began, turning to

M. Beaucaire, but to fall back astounded. "'Od's blood, the dog hath murdered and robbed some royal

prince!" He forgot Lady Mary's presence in his excitement. "Lay hands on him!" he shouted. "Tear those

Molyneux threw himself between. "One word!" he cried. "One word before you offer an outrage you will

"I think one does not expec' monsieur to fight anybody. Would I fight you, you think? That was why I had

my servants, that evening we play. I would gladly fight almos' any one in the won'; but I did not wish to soil

"M. de Winterset," said Beaucaire, "of what are you afraid? You calculate well. Beaucaire might have been

belief an impostor that you yourself expose'? Never! But I was not goin' reveal that secret. You have not

"Tell what you like," answered the Duke. "Tell all the wild lies you have time for. You have five minutes to

"Now you absolve me, then? Ha, ha! Oh, yes! Mademoiselle," he bowed to Lady Mary, "I have the honor to

reques' you leave the room. You shall miss no details if these frien's of yours kill me, on the honor of a

"Do you dare keep up the pretense?" cried Lord Town brake. "Know, you villain barber, that your master, the

"Now you goin' to see M. Beaucaire's master," said Beaucaire to Lady Mary. "'Tis true what I say, the other

night. I cross from Prance in his suite; my passport say as his barber. Then to pass the ennui of exile, I come

to Bath and play for what one will. It kill the time. But when the people hear I have been a servant they come

only secretly; and there is one of them he has absolve' me of a promise not to speak of him I learn

something he cannot wish to be tol'. I make some trouble to learn this thing. Why I should do this? Well

that is my own rizzon. So I make this man help me in a masque, the unmasking it was, for, as there is no one

to know me, I throw off my black wig and become myself and so I am 'Chateaurien,' Castle Nowhere. Then

"Shall I tell you why I mus' be 'Victor' and 'Beaucaire' and 'Chateaurien,' and not myself?"

"To escape from the bailiffs for debts for razors and soap," gibed Lord Townbrake.

"No, monsieur. In France I have got a cousin who is a man with a very bad temper at some time', and he will

He was interrupted by a loud commotion from without. The door was flung open, and the young Count of

M. de Mirepoix followed him, bowing as a courtier, in deference; but M. Beaucaire took both his hands

"My warmest felicitations," said the Marquis. "There is no longer need for your incognito."

"Thou best of masters!" said Beaucaire, touching him fondly on the shoulder. "I know. Your courier came

safely. And so I am forgiven! But I forget." He turned to the lady. She had begun to tremble exceedingly.

"Faires' of all the English fair," he said, as the gentlemen bowed low to her deep courtesy, "I beg the honor to

presen' to Lady Mary Carlisle, M. le Comte de Beaujolais. M. de Mirepoix has already the honor. Lady Mary

has been very kind to me, my frien's; you mus' help me make my acknowledgment. Mademoiselle and

"Henri," he turned to the young Beaujolais, "I wish you had shared my masque I have been so gay!" The

surface of his tone was merry, but there was an undercurrent, weary sad, to speak of what was the mood,

not the manner. He made the effect of addressing every one present, but he looked steadily at Lady Mary. Her

eyes were fixed upon him, with a silent and frightened fascination, and she trembled more and more. "I am a

great actor, Henri. These gentlemen are yet scarce convince' I am not a lackey! And I mus' tell you that I was

"Oh, no!,, the ambassador cried out. "He would not be content with me; he would wander over a strange

"Ha, ha, my Mirepoix! And what is better, one evening I am oblige' to fight some frien's of M. de Winterset

there, and some ladies and cavaliers look on, and they still think me a servant. Oh, I am a great actor! 'Tis true

there is not a peasant in France who would not have then known one 'born'; but they are wonderful, this

English people, holding by an idea once it is in their heads a mos' worthy quality. But my good Molyneux

here, he had speak to me with courtesy, jus' because I am a man an' jus' because he is al ways kind. (I have

learn' that his greatgrandfather was a Frenchman.) So I sen' to him and tell him ev'rything, and he gain

"I was speaking to messieurs about my cousin, who will meddle in the affair' of his relatives. Well, that

gentleman, he make a marriage for me with a good and accomplish' lady, very noble and very beautiful and

amiable." (The young count at his elbow started slightly at this, but immediately appeared to wrap himself in

a mantle of solemn thought.) "Unfortunately, when my cousin arrange' so, I was a dolt, a little blockhead; I

swear to marry for myself and when I please, or never if I like. That lady is all things charming and gentle,

and, in truth, she is very much attach' to me why should I not say it? I am so proud of it. She is very

faithful and forgiving and sweet; she would be the same, I think, if I were even a lackey. But I? I was a

dolt, a little unsensible brute; I did not value such thing' then; I was too yo'ng, las' June. So I say to my

cousin, 'No, I make my own choosing!' 'Little fool,' he answer, 'she is the one for you. Am I not wiser than

you?' And he was very angry, and, as he has influence in France, word come' that he will get me put in

Vincennes, so I mus' run away quick till his anger is gone. My good frien' Mirepoix is jus' leaving for

London; he take' many risk' for my sake; his hairdresser die before he start', so I travel as that poor barber.

But my cousin is a man to be afraid of when he is angry, even in England, and I mus' not get my Mirepoix in

trouble. I mus' not be discover' till my cousin is ready to laugh about it all and make it a joke. And there may

be spies; so I change my name again, and come to Bath to amuse my retreat with a little gaming I am al

ways fond of that. But three day' ago M. le Marquis send me a courier to say that my brother, who know

where I had run away, is come from France to say that my cousin is appease'; he need me for his little theatre,

the play cannot go on. I do not need to espouse mademoiselle. All shall be forgiven if I return, and my

"There is one more thing to say, that is all. I have said I learn' a secret, and use it to make a man introduce me

if I will not tell. He has absolve' me of that promise. My frien's, I had not the wish to ruin that man. I was not

receive'; Meestaire Nash had reboff me; I had no other way excep' to use this fellow. So I say, 'Take me to

Lady Malbourne's ball as "Chateaurien."' I throw off my wig, and shave, and behol', I am M. le Duc de Castle

The young man's manner suddenly changed. He became haughty, menacing. He stretched out his arm, and

pointed at Winterset. "Now I am no 'Beaucaire,' messieurs. I am a French gentleman. The man who introduce'

me at the price of his honor, and then betray' me to redeem it, is that coward, that cardcheat there!"

Winterset made a horrible effort to laugh. The gentlemen who surrounded him fell away as from pestilence.

"A French gentleman!" he sneered savagely, and yet fearfully. "I don't know who you are. Hide behind as

many toys and ribbons as you like; I'll know the name of the man who dares bring such a charge!"

"Sir!" cried de Mirepoix sharply, advancing a step towards him; but he checked himself at once. He made a

low bow of state, first to the young Frenchman, then to Lady Mary and the company. "Permit me, Lady Mary

and gentlemen," he said. "to assume the honor of presenting you to His Highness, Prince LouisPhilippe de

Valois, Duke of Orleans, Duke of Chartres, Duke of Nemours, Duke of Montpeti'sier, First Prince of the

Blood Royal, First Peer of France, LieutenantGeneral of French Infantry, Governor of Dauphine, Knight of

the Golden Fleece, Grand Master of the Order of Notre Dame, of Mount Carmel, and of St. Lazarus in

Jerusalem; and cousin to His most Christian Majesty, Louis the Fifteenth, King of France."

"Those are a few of my brother's names," whispered Henri of Beaujolais to Molyneux. "Old Mirepoix has the

long breath, but it take' a strong man two day' to say all of them. I can suppose this Winterset know' now who

"Castle Nowhere!" gasped Beau Nash, falling back upon the burly prop of Mr. Bantison's shoulder.

"The Duke of Orleans will receive a message from me within the hour!" said Winterset, as he made his way

"I tol' you that I would not soil my hand with you," answered the young man. "If you send a message no

gentleman will bring it. Whoever shall bear it will receive a little beating from Francois."

He stepped to Lady Mary's side. Her head was bent low, her face averted. She seemed to breathe with

difficulty, and leaned heavily upon a chair. "Monseigneur," she faltered in a half whisper, "can you forgive

"Forgive?" he answered, and his voice was as broken as hers; but he went on, more firmly: "It is nothing

less than nothing. There is only jus' one in the whole worl' who would not have treat' me the way that

you treat' me. It is to her that I am goin' to make reparation. You know something, Henri? I am not goin' back

only because the king forgive' me. I am goin' to please him; I am goin' to espouse mademoiselle, our cousin.

"Henri, you want to fight me?" cried his brother sharply. "Don' you think the King of France is a wiser man

He offered his hand to Lady Mary. "Mademoiselle is fatigue'. Will she honor me?"

He walked with her to the door. Her hand fluttering faintly in his. >From somewhere about the garments of

one of them a little cloud of faded roseleaves fell, and lay strewn on the floor behind them. He opened the

door, and the lights shone on a multitude of eager faces turned toward it. There was a great hum of voices,

and, over all, the fiddles wove a wandering air, a sweet French song of the voyageur.

He bowed very low, as, with fixed and glistening eyes, Lady Mary Carlisle, the Beauty of Bath, passed