MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE

by Booth Tarkington

Chapter One

The young Frenchman did very well what he had planned to do. His guessthat the Duke would cheat proved good. As the unshod half-dozen figuresthat had been standing noiselessly in the entryway stole softly into theshadows of the chamber, he leaned across the table and smilingly pluckeda card out of the big Englishman's sleeve. 

"Merci, M. Le Duc!" he laughed, rising and stepping back from the table. 

The Englishman cried out, "It means the dirty work of silencing you withmy 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; thenstood transfixed, impotent, alternately scarlet with rage and whitewith the vital shame of discovery. M. Beaucaire remarked, indicating thesilent figures by a polite wave of the hand, "Is it not a complimentto monsieur that I procure six large men to subdue him? They are quitedevote' to me, and monsieur is alone. Could it be that he did not wisheven his lackeys to know he play with the yo'ng Frenchman who MeestaireNash does not like in the pomp-room? Monsieur is unfortunate to havecome on foot and alone to my apartment. "

The Duke's mouth foamed over with chaotic revilement. His captorsmiled brightly, and made a slight gesture, as one who brushes asidea boisterous insect. With the same motion he quelled to stony quiet aresentful impetus of his servants toward the Englishman. 

"It's murder, is it, you carrion!" finished the Duke. 

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 mur-r-der; onlydisgrace!" He laughed a clear, light laugh with a rising inflection, seeming to launch himself upon an adventurous quest for sympathy. 

"You little devilish scullion!" spat out the Duke. 

"Tut, tut! But I forget. Monsieur has pursue' his studies of deportmentamongs' his fellow-countrymen. 

"Do you dream a soul in Bath will take your word that I--that I--"

"That M. Le Duc de Winterset had a card up his sleeve?"

"You pitiful stroller, you stableboy, born in a stable--"

"Is it not an honor to be born where monsieur must have been bred?"

"You scurvy foot-boy, you greasy barber, you cutthroat groom--"

"Overwhelm'!" The young man bowed with imperturbable elation. "M. Le Ducappoint' me to all the office' of his househol'. "

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

"No, monsieur, not on the parade; but how many come to play with mehere? Because I will play always, night or day, for what one will, forany long, and always fair, monsieur. "

"You outrageous varlet! Every one knows you came to England as theFrench Ambassador's barber. What man of fashion will listen to you? Whowill believe you?"

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

"Bah!"

"Will monsieur not reseat himself?" M. Beaucaire made a low bow. "So. Wemust 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 theentrance, Francois. So; now we shall talk. Monsieur, I wish you to thinkvery cool. Then listen; I will be briefly. It is that I am well known tobe all, entire' hones'. Gamblist? Ah, yes; true and mos profitable;but fair, always 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 peoplebelief him to play always hones'? Ha, ha! Did it almos' be said tohim las' year, after when he play' with Milor' Tappin'ford at thechocolate-house--"

"You dirty scandal-monger!" the Duke burst out. "I'll--"

"Monsieur, monsieur!" said the Frenchman. "It is a poor valor to insulta helpless captor. Can he retort upon his own victim? But it is for youto think of what I say. True, I am not reco'nize on the parade; that myfrien's who come here do not present me to their ladies; that MeestaireNash has reboff' me in the pomp-room; still, am I not known for beinghones' and fair in my play, and will I not be belief, even I, when Ilif' my voice and charge you aloud with what is already w'isper'? Thinkof it! You are a noble, and there will be some hang-dogs who might notfall 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, butI have still the ear of M. De Mirepoix, and he know' I never lie. Not agentleman will play you when you come to Paris. "

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

The room rang with the gay laughter of Beaucaire. "I hol' your note' forseven-hunder' pound'. You can have them, monsieur. Why does a such greatman 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 with money?"

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

"Money? Pouf!" snapped the little gambler. "No, no, no! It is that M. Le Duc, impoverish', somewhat in a bad odor as he is, yet command theentree any-where--onless I--Ha, ha! Eh, monsieur?"

"Ha! You dare think to force me--"

M. Beaucaire twirled the tip of his slender mustache around the endof his white forefinger. Then he said: "Monsieur and me goin' to LadyMalbourne's ball to-night--M. Le Duc and me!"

The Englishman roared, "Curse your impudence!"

"Sit quiet. Oh, yes, that's all; we goin' together. "

"No!"

"Certain. I make all my little plan'. 'Tis all arrange'. " He paused, andthen said gravely, "You goin' present me to Lady Mary Carlisle. "

The other laughed in utter scorn. "Lady Mary Carlisle, of all womenalive, would be the first to prefer the devil to a man of no birth, barber. "

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

"No!"

"Yes. And after--then I have the entree. Is it much I ask? This onelittle favor, and I never w'isper, never breathe that--it is to say, Iam always forever silent of monsieur's misfortune. "

"You have the entree!" sneered the other. "Go to a lackeys' rout anddance with the kitchen maids. If I would, I could not present you toBath society. I should have cartels from the fathers, brothers, andlovers of every wench and madam in the place, even I. You would bethrust from Lady Malbourne's door five minutes after you entered it. "

"No, no, no!"

"Half the gentlemen in Bath have been here to play. They would knowyou, wouldn't they, fool? You've had thousands out of Bantison, Rakell, Guilford, and Townbrake. They would have you lashed by the grooms asyour 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 stoodwithin a yard of you when Nash expelled you the pump-room. "

M. Beaucaire flushed slightly. "You think I did not see?" he asked. 

"Do you dream that' because Winterset introduces a low fellow he will betolerated--that Bath will receive a barber?"

"I have the distinction to call monsieur's attention, " replied the youngman gayly, "I have renounce that profession. "

"Fool!"

"I am now a man of honor!"

"Faugh!"

"A man of the parts, " continued the the young Frenchman, "and ofdeportment; 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. DoI not compare in taste of apparel with your yo'ng Englishman? Ha, ha! Tobe hope'. Ha, ha! So I am goin' talk with Lady Mary Carlisle. "

"Bah!" The Duke made a savage burlesque. "'Lady Mary Carlisle, may Iassume the honor of presenting the barber of the Marquis de Mirepoix?'So, is it?"

"No, monsieur, " smiled the young man. "Quite not so. You shall havenothing to worry you, nothing in the worl'. I am goin' to assassinate mypoor mustachio--also remove this horrible black peruke, and emerge in myown hair. Behol'!" He swept the heavy curled, mass from his head as hespoke, and his hair, coiled under the great wig, fell to his shoulders, and sparkled yellow in the candle-light. He tossed his head to shake thehair back from his cheeks. "When it is dress', I am transform nobody canknow me; you shall observe. See how little I ask of you, how very littlebit. No one shall reco'nize 'M. Beaucaire' or 'Victor. ' Ha, ha! 'Tis allarrange'; you have nothing to fear. "

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

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

"Take heed to yourself--after!" vouchsafed the Englishman between histeeth. 

"Conquered!" cried M. Beaucaire, and clapped his hands gleefully. "Conquered for the night! Aha, it ts riz'nable! I shall meet whatyou send--after. One cannot hope too much of your patience. It is butnatural you should attemp' a little avengement for the rascal trap Iwas such a wicked fellow as to set for you. I shall meet some strangefrien's of yours after to-night; not so? I must try to be not too muchfrighten'. " He looked at the Duke curiously. "You want to know why Icreate this tragedy, why I am so unkind as to entrap monsieur?"

His Grace of Winterset replied with a chill glance; a pulse in thenobleman's cheek beat less relentlessly; his eye raged not so bitterly;the steady purple of his own color was returning; his voice was lesshoarse; he was regaining his habit. "'Tis ever the manner of thevulgar, " he observed, "to wish to be seen with people of fashion. "

"Oh, no, no, no!" The Frenchman laughed. "'Tis not that. Am I notalready one of these 'men of fashion'? I lack only the reputation ofbirth. Monsieur is goin' supply that. Ha, ha! I shall be noble fromto-night. 'Victor, ' the artis', is condemn' to death; his throat shallbe cut with his own razor. 'M. Beaucaire--'" Here the young man sprangto his feet, caught up the black wig, clapped into it a dice-boxfrom the table, and hurled it violently through the open door. "'M. Beaucaire' shall be choke' with his own dice-box. Who is the Phoenix toremain? What advantage have I not over other men of rank who are merelyborn to it? I may choose my own. No! Choose for me, monsieur. Shall Ibe chevalier, comte, vicomte, marquis, what? None. Out of compliment tomonsieur can I wish to be anything he is not? No, no! I shall be M. Le Duc, M. Le Duc de--de Chateaurien. Ha, ha! You see? You are myconfrere. "

M. Beaucaire trod a dainty step or two, waving his hand politely to theDuke, as though in invitation to join the celebration of his rank. The Englishman watched, his eye still and harsh, already gathering incraftiness. Beaucaire stopped suddenly. "But how I forget my age! I amtwenty-three, " he said, with a sigh. "I rejoice too much to be of thequality. It has been too great for me, and I had always belief' myselffree of such ambition. I thought it was enough to behol' the operawithout wishing to sing; but no, England have teach' me I have thosevulgar desire'. Monsieur, I am goin' tell you a secret: the ladies ofyour 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 thebeauty of youth; yours remain comely at thirty. Ours are flowers, yoursare stars! See, I betray myself, I am so poor a patriot. And there isone among these stars--ah, yes, there is one--the poor Frenchman hasobserve' from his humble distance; even there he could bask in theglowing!" M. Beaucaire turned to the window, and looked out into thedark. He did not see the lights of the town. When he turned again, hehad half forgotten his prisoner; other pictures were before him. 

"Ah, what radiance!" he cried. "Those people up over the sky, they wantto show they wish the earth to be happy, so they smile, and make thislady. Gold-haired, an angel of heaven, and yet a Diana of the chase! Isee her fly by me on her great horse one day; she touch' his mane withher fingers. I buy that clipping from the groom. I have it here with mydear 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 torecoup his fortunes. This alliance shall fail. It is not the way--thatheritage shall be safe' from him! It is you and me, monsieur! You canlaugh! The war is open', and by me! There is one great step taken: untilto-night there was nothing for you to ruin, to-morrow you have got anoble of France--your own protege--to besiege and sack. And you areto lose, because you think such ruin easy, and because you understandnothing--far less--of divinity. How could you know? You have not thefiber; the heart of a lady is a blank to you; you know nothing of thevibration. There are some words that were made only to tell of LadyMary, for her alone--bellissima, divine, glorieuse! Ah, how I havewatch' her! It is sad to me when I see her surround' by your yo'ngcaptains, 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 towonder! Strange it is, but I have almos' cry out with rapture at a lookI have see' her give another man, so beautiful it was, so tender, sodazzling of the eyes and so mirthful of the lips. Ah, divine coquetry! Alook for another, ah-i-me! for many others; and even to you, one day, a rose, while I--I, monsieur, could not even be so blessed as to bethe groun' beneath her little shoe! But to-night, monsieur--ha, ha!--to-night, monsieur, you and me, two princes, M. Le Duc deWinterset and M. Le Duc de Chateaurien--ha, ha! you see?--we are goin'arm-in-arm to that ball, and I am goin' have one of those looks, I! Anda rose! I! It is time. But ten minute', monsieur. I make my apology tokeep you waitin' so long while I go in the nex' room and execute my poormustachio--that will be my only murder for jus' this one evening--andinves' myself in white satin. Ha, ha! I shall be very gran', monsieur. Francois, send Louis to me; Victor, to order two chairs for monsieur andme; we are goin' out in the worl' to-right!"

Chapter Two

The chairmen swarmed in the street at Lady Malbourne's door, where thejoyous vulgar fought with muddied footmen and tipsy link-boys for placesof vantage whence to catch a glimpse of quality and of raiment at itsutmost. Dawn was in the east, and the guests were departing. Singly orin pairs, glittering in finery, they came mincing down the steps, theghost of the night's smirk fading to jadedness as they sought the darkrecesses of their chairs. From within sounded the twang of fiddles stillswinging manfully at it, and the windows were bright with the light ofmany candles. When the door was flung open to call the chair of LadyMary Carlisle, there was an eager pressure of the throng to see. 

A small, fair gentleman in white satin came out upon the steps, turnedand bowed before a lady who appeared in the doorway, a lady whose royalloveliness was given to view for a moment in that glowing frame. Thecrowd sent up a hearty English cheer for the Beauty of Bath. 

The gentleman smiled upon them delightedly. "What enchanting people!" hecried. "Why did I not know, so I might have shout' with them?" Thelady noticed the people not at all; whereat, being pleased, the peoplecheered again. The gentleman offered her his hand; she made a slowcourtesy; placed the tips of her fingers upon his own. "I am honored, M. De Chateaurien, " she said. 

"No, no!" he cried earnestly. "Behol' a poor Frenchman whom emperorsshould envy. " Then reverently and with the pride of his gallant officevibrant in every line of his slight figure, invested in white satin andvery grand, as he had prophesied, M. Le Duc de Chateaurien handed LadyMary Carlisle down the steps, an achievement which had figured in theambitions of seven other gentlemen during the evening. 

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

"Never!" said Lady Mary. 

"Ah, I do not deserve it, I know so well! But--"

"Never!"

"It is the greatness of my onworthiness that alone can claim yourcharity; let your kin' heart give this little red rose, this great alms, to the poor beggar. "

"Never!"

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

"Never!" she flashed defiantly as she was closed in. "Never!"

"Never!"

The rose fell at his feet. 

"A rose lasts till morning, " said a voice behind him. 

Turning, M. De Chateaurien looked beamingly upon the face of the Duke ofWinterset. 

"'Tis already the daylight, " he replied, pointing to the east. "Monsieur, was it not enough honor for you to han' out madame, the auntof Lady Mary? Lady Rellerton retain much trace of beauty. 'Tis strangeyou did not appear more happy. "

"The rose is of an unlucky color, I think, " observed the Duke. 

"The color of a blush, my brother. "

"Unlucky, I still maintain, " said the other calmly. 

"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 good-night, mybrother, a good-night. I wish you dreams of roses, red roses, onlybeautiful red, red roses!"

"Stay! Did you see the look she gave these street folk when they shoutedfor her? And how are you higher than they, when she knows? As high asyonder horse-boy!"

"Red roses, my brother, only roses. I wish you dreams of red, redroses!"

Chapter Three

It was well agreed by the fashion of Bath that M. Le Duc de Chateaurienwas a person of sensibility and haut ton; that his retinue and equipagesurpassed in elegance; that his person was exquisite, his mannerengaging. In the company of gentlemen his ease was slightly tinged withgraciousness (his single equal in Bath being his Grace of Winterset);but it was remarked that when he bowed over a lady's hand, his airbespoke only a gay and tender reverence. 

He was the idol of the dowagers within a week after his appearance;matrons warmed to him; young belles looked sweetly on him, while thegentlemen 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 seenall things, had visited Chateaurien under the present Duke's father, and descanted to the curious upon its grandeurs. The young noble had onefault, he was so poor a gambler. He cared nothing for the hazards of adie or the turn of a card. Gayly admitting that he had been born with nospirit of adventure in him, he was sure, he declared, that he failed ofmuch happiness by his lack of taste in such matters. 

But he was not long wanting the occasion to prove his taste in thematter of handling a weapon. A certain led-captain, Rohrer byname, notorious, amongst other things, for bearing a dexterous andbloodthirsty blade, came to Bath post-haste, one night, and jostledheartily against him, in the pump-room on the following morning. M. De Chauteaurien bowed, and turned aside without offense, continuing aconversation with some gentlemen near by. Captain Rohrer jostledagainst him a second time. M. De Chateaurien looked him in the eye, andapologized pleasantly for being so much in the way. Thereupon Rohrerprocured an introduction to him, and made some observations derogatoryto the valor and virtue of the French. There was current a curious pieceof gossip of the French court: a prince of the blood royal, grandson ofthe late Regent and second in the line of succession to the throneof France, had rebelled against the authority of Louis XV, who hadcommanded him to marry the Princess Henriette, cousin to both of them. The princess was reported to be openly devoted to the cousin who refusedto accept her hand at the bidding of the king; and, as rumor ran, theprince's caprice elected in preference the discipline of Vincennes, towhich retirement the furious king had consigned him. The story was thestaple gossip of all polite Europe; and Captain Rohrer, having in hismind a purpose to make use of it in leading up to a statement thatshould be general to the damage of all Frenchwomen, and which aFrenchman might not pass over as he might a jog of the elbow, repeatedit with garbled truths to make a scandal of a story which bore none on aplain relation. 

He did not reach his deduction. M. De Chateaurien, breaking into hisnarrative, addressed him very quietly. "Monsieur, " he said, "none butswine deny the nobleness of that good and gentle lady, Mademoiselle laPrincesse de Bourbon-Conti. Every Frenchman know' that her cousin is abad rebel and ingrate, who had only honor and rispec' for her, but wasso 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 clearlyshown that the Duke of Orleans is a scurvy fellow, but not--" he wheeledabout and touched Captain Rohrer on the brow with the back of his glovedhand--"but not so scurvy as thou, thou swine of the gutter!"

Two hours later, with perfect ease, he ran Captain Rohrer through theleft shoulder--after which he sent a basket of red roses to the Dukeof Winterset. In a few days he had another captain to fight. This wasa ruffling buck who had the astounding indiscretion to proclaim M. De Chateaurien an impostor. There was no Chateaurien, he swore. TheFrenchman laughed in his face, and, at twilight of the same day, pinkedhim carefully through the right shoulder. It was not that he couldnot put aside the insult to himself, he declared to Mr. Molyneux, his second, and the few witnesses, as he handed his wet sword to hislackey--one of his station could not be insulted by a doubt of thatstation--but he fought in the quarrel of his friend Winterset. Thisrascal had asserted that M. Le Duc had introduced an impostor. Could heoverlook the insult to a friend, one to whom he owed his kind receptionin Bath? Then, bending over his fallen adversary, he whispered: "Naughtyman, tell your master find some better quarrel for the nex' he sen'agains' me. "

The conduct of M. De Chateaurien was pronounced admirable. 

There was no surprise when the young foreigner fell naturally into thelong train of followers of the beautiful Lady Mary Carlisle, nor wasthere great astonishment that he should obtain marked favor in her eyes, shown so plainly that my Lord Townbrake, Sir Hugh Guilford, and the richSquire Bantison, all of whom had followed her through three seasons, swore with rage, and his Grace of Winterset stalked from her aunt'shouse with black brows. 

Meeting the Duke there on the evening after his second encounter deChateaurien smiled upon him brilliantly. "It was badly done; oh, sobadly!" he whispered. "Can you afford to have me strip' of my mask byany but yourself? You, who introduce' me? They will say there is somebad scandal that I could force you to be my god-father. You mus' get thecourage yourself. "

"I told you a rose had a short life, " was the answer. 

"Oh, those roses! 'Tis the very greates' rizzon to gather each daya fresh one. " He took a red bud from his breast for an instant, andtouched it to his lips. 

"M. De Chateaurien!" It was Lady Mary's voice; she stood at a tablewhere a vacant place had been left beside her. "M. De Chateaurien, wehave been waiting very long for you. "

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

"We approach a climax, eh, monsieur?" said M. De Chateaurien. 

Chapter Four

There fell a clear September night, when the moon was radiant over townand country, over cobbled streets and winding roads. From the fields themists rose slowly, and the air was mild and fragrant, while distanceswere white and full of mystery. All of Bath that pretended to fashion orcondition was present that evening at a fete at the house of a countrygentleman of the neighborhood. When the stately junket was concluded, itwas the pleasure of M. De Chateaurien to form one of the escort of LadyMary's carriage for the return. As they took the road, Sir Hugh Guilfordand Mr. Bantison, engaging in indistinct but vigorous remonstrance withMr. Molyneux over some matter, fell fifty or more paces behind, wherethey continued to ride, keeping up their argument. Half a dozen othergallants rode in advance, muttering among themselves, or attended laxlyupon Lady Mary's aunt on the other side of the coach, while the happyFrenchman was permitted to ride close to that adorable window whichframed the fairest face in England. 

He sang for her a little French song, a song of the voyageur who dreamedof home. The lady, listening, looking up at the bright moon, felt a warmdrop upon her cheek, and he saw the tears sparkling upon her lashes. 

"Mademoiselle, " he whispered then, "I, too, have been a wanderer, but mydreams were not of France; no, I do not dream of that home, of that dearcountry. It is of a dearer country, a dream country--a country of goldand snow, " he cried softly, looking it her white brow and the fair, lightly powdered hair above it. "Gold and snow, and the blue sky of alady's eyes!"

"I had thought the ladies of France were dark, sir. 

"Cruel! It is that she will not understan'! Have I speak of the ladiesof France? No, no, no! It is of the faires' country; yes, 'tis aprovince of heaven, mademoiselle. Do I not renounce my allegiance toFrance? Oh, yes! I am subjec'--no, content to be slave--in the lan' ofthe blue sky, the gold, and the snow. 

"A very pretty figure, " answered Lady Mary, her eyes downcast. "But doesit not hint a notable experience in the making of such speeches?"

"Tormentress! No. It prove only the inspiration it is to know you. "

"We English ladies hear plenty of the like sir; and we even growbrilliant enough to detect the assurance that lies beneath thecourtesies of our own gallants. "

"Merci! I should believe so!" ejaculated M. De Chateaurien: but hesmothered the words upon his lips. 

Her eyes were not lifted. She went on: "We come, in time, to believethat true feeling comes faltering forth, not glibly; that smoothnessbetokens the adept in the art, sir, rather than your true--your true--"She was herself faltering; more, blushing deeply, and halting to a fullstop in terror of a word. There was a silence. 

"Your--true--lover, " he said huskily. When he had said that word bothtrembled. She turned half away into the darkness of the coach. 

"I know what make' you to doubt me, " he said, faltering himself, thoughit was not his art that prompted him. "They have tol' you the Frenchdo nothing always but make love, is it not so? Yes, you think I am likethat. You think I am like that now!"

She made no sign. 

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

She did not answer. 

"Turn to me, " he said. 

The fragrance of the fields came to them, and from the distance thefaint, clear note of a hunting-horn. 

"Turn to me. "

The lovely head was bent very low. Her little gloved hand lay upon thenarrow window ledge. He laid his own gently upon it. The two hands wereshaking like twin leaves in the breeze. Hers was not drawn away. Aftera pause, neither knew how long, he felt the warm fingers turn and claspthemselves tremulously about his own. At last she looked up bravely andmet his eyes. The horn was wound again--nearer. 

"All the cold was gone from the snows--long ago, " she said. 

"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 ofhoof-beats. The gentlemen riding idly in front of the coach scattered tothe hedge-sides; and, with drawn swords flashing in the moon, a party ofhorsemen charged down the highway, their cries blasting the night. 

"Barber! Kill the barber!" they screamed. "Barber! Kill the barber!"

Beaucaire had but time to draw his sword when they were upon him. 

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

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 thecoach. "Sacred swine!" he cried bitterly. "To endanger a lady, to makethis brawl in a lady's presence! Drive on!" he shouted. 

"No!" cried Lady Mary. 

The Frenchman's assailants were masked, but they were not highwaymen. "Barber! Barber!" they shouted hoarsely, and closed in on him in acircle. 

"See how he use his steel!" laughed M. Beaucaire, as his point passedthrough a tawdry waistcoat. For a moment he cut through the ring andcleared a space about him, and Lady Mary saw his face shining in themoonlight. "Canaille!" he hissed, as his horse sank beneath him; and, though guarding his head from the rain of blows from above, he managedto drag headlong from his saddle the man who had hamstrung the poorbrute. The fellow came suddenly to the ground, and lay there. 

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

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

The Frenchman's play with his weapon was a revelation of skill, the moreextraordinary as he held in his hand only a light dress sword. But thering closed about him, and his keen defense could not avail him for morethan a few moments. Lady Mary's outriders, the gallants of her escort, rode up close to the coach and encircled it, not interfering. 

"Sir Hugh Guilford!" cried Lady Mary wildly, "if you will not help him, give me your sword!" She would have leaped to the ground, but Sir Hughheld the door. 

"Sit quiet, madam, " he said to her; then, to the man on the box, "Driveon. "

"If he does, I'll kill him!" she said fiercely. "Ah, what cowards! Willyou 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. Hefights as few gentlemen could. Ah--ah! Look at that! 'Tis a shame!"

On foot, his hat gone, his white coat sadly rent and gashed, flecked, too, with red, M. Beaucaire, wary, alert, brilliant, seemed to transformhimself into a dozen fencing-masters; and, though his skill appearedto lie in delicacy and quickness, his play being continually withthe point, sheer strength failed to beat him down. The young man waslaughing like a child. 

"Believe me, " said Molyneux "he's no barber! No, and never was!"

For a moment there was even a chance that M. Beaucaire might have thebest of it. Two of his adversaries were prostrate, more than one weregroaning, and the indomitable Frenchman had actually almost beat off theruffians, when, by a trick, he was overcome. One of them, dismounting, ran in suddenly from behind, and seized his blade in a thick leathergauntlet. Before Beaucaire could disengage the weapon, two others threwthemselves from their horses and hurled him to the earth. "A moi! A moi, Francois!" he cried as he went down, his sword in fragments, but hisvoice unbroken and clear. 

"Shame!" muttered one or two of the gentlemen about the coach. 

"'Twas dastardly to take him so, " said Molyneux. "Whatever hisdeservings, I'm nigh of a mind to offer him a rescue in the Duke'sface. "

"Truss him up, lads, " said the heavy voice. "Clear the way in front ofthe 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 heavy whip with three thongs. 

"A moi, Francois!"

There was borne on the breeze an answer--"Monseigneur! Monseigneur!"The cry grew louder suddenly. The clatter of hoofs urged to an anguishof speed sounded on the night. M. Beaucaire's servants had lagged sorelybehind, but they made up for it now. Almost before the noise of theirown steeds they came riding down the moonlit aisle between the mists. Chosen men, these servants of Beaucaire, and like a thunderbolt theyfell upon the astounded cavaliers. 

"Chateaurien! Chateaurien!" they shouted, and smote so swiftly that, through lack of time, they showed no proper judgment, discriminatingnothing between non-combatants and their master's foes. They chargedfirst into the group about M. Beaucaire, and broke and routed itutterly. Two of them leaped to the young man's side, while the otherfour, swerving, scarce losing the momentum of their onset, bore on uponthe gentlemen near the coach, who went down beneath the fierceness ofthe onslaught, cursing manfully. 

"Our just deserts, " said Mr. Molyneux, his mouth full of dust andphilosophy. 

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 tenminutes from the first attack on M. Beaucaire, the attacking partyhad fled in disorder, and the patrician non-combatants, choking withexpletives, consumed with wrath, were prisoners, disarmed by theFrenchman's lackeys. 

Guilford's discomfiture had freed the doors of the coach; so it was thatwhen M. Beaucaire, struggling to rise, assisted by his servants, threwout one hand to balance himself, he found it seized between two small, cold palms, and he looked into two warm, dilating eyes, that were doublybeautiful because of the fright and rage that found room in them, too. 

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 yourpresence, " 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. "Monseigneurcommanded us to follow far in the rear, to remain unobserved. The windmalignantly blew against monseigneur's voice. "

"See what it might have cost, my children, " said his master, pointingto the ropes with which they would have bound him and to the whip lyingbeside them. A shudder passed over the lackey's frame; the utter horrorin his face echoed in the eyes of his fellows. 

"Oh, monseigneur!" Francois sprang back, and tossed his arms to heaven. 

"But it did not happen, " said M. Beaucaire. 

"It could not!" exclaimed Francois. 

"No. And you did very well, my children--" the young man smiledbenevolently--"very well. And now, " he continued, turning to Lady Maryand speaking in English, "let me be asking of our gallants yonder whatmake' them to be in cabal with highwaymen. One should come to a politeunderstanding with them, you think? Not so?"

He bowed, offering his hand to conduct her to the coach, where Molyneuxand his companions, having drawn Sir Hugh from under his horse, wereengaged in reviving and reassuring Lady Rellerton, who had fainted. ButLady Mary stayed Beaucaire with a gesture, and the two stood where theywere. 

"Monseigneur!" she said, with a note of raillery in her voice, butraillery so tender that he started with happiness. His movement broughthim a hot spasm of pain, and he clapped his hand to a red stain on hiswaistcoat. 

"You are hurt!"

"It is nothing, " smiled M. Beaucaire. Then, that she might not seethe stain spreading, he held his handkerchief over the spot. "I am alittle--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 shiningmist. "I wish that ride might las' for always! Can you say that, mademoiselle?"

"Monseigneur, " she cried in a passion of admiration, "I would what youwould have be, should be. What do you not deserve? You are the bravestman in the world!"

"Ha, ha! I am jus' a poor Frenchman. "

"Would that a few Englishmen had shown themselves as 'poor' tonight. The vile cowards, not to help you!" With that, suddenly possessed by heranger, she swept away from him to the coach. 

Sir Hugh, groaning loudly, was being assisted into the vehicle. 

"My little poltroons, " she said, "what are you doing with yourfellow-craven, Sir Hugh Guilford, there?"

"Madam, " replied Molyneux humbly, "Sir Hugh's leg is broken. LadyRellerton graciously permits him to be taken in. "

"I do not permit it! M. De Chateaurien rides with us. "

"But--"

"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 apretty story for the gossips to-morrow! And I could almost find pityfor you when I think of the wits when you return to town. Fine gentlemenyou; hardy bravos, by heaven! to leave one man to meet a troop of horsesingle-handed, while you huddle in shelter until you are overthrown anddisarmed by servants! Oh, the wits! Heaven save you from the wits!"

"Madam. "

"Address me no more! M. De Chateaurien, Lady Rellerton and I willgreatly esteem the honor of your company. Will you come?"

She stepped quickly into the coach, and was gathering her skirts to makeroom for the Frenchman, when a heavy voice spoke from the shadows of thetree by the wayside. 

"Lady Mary Carlisle will, no doubt, listen to a word of counsel on thispoint. "

The Duke of Winterset rode out into the moonlight, composedly untieing amask 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 hispresence known with the utmost coolness. 

"Gracious heavens, 'tis Winterset!" exclaimed Lady Rellerton. 

"Turned highwayman and cut-throat, " cried Lady Mary. 

"No, no, " laughed M. Beaucaire, somewhat unsteadily, as he stood, swaying a little, with one hand on the coach-door, the other pressedhard on his side, "he only oversee'; he is jus' a little bashful, sometime'. He is a great man, but he don' want all the glory!"

"Barber, " replied the Duke, "I must tell you that I gladly descend tobandy words with you; your monstrous impudence is a claim to rankI cannot ignore. But a lackey who has himself followed by six otherlackeys--"

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

"M. De Chateaurien, " said Lady Mary, "we are waiting for you. "

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

"I wish to hear nothing from him--ever!"

"My faith, madam, " cried the Duke, "this saucy fellow has paid you thelast insult! He is so sure of you he does not fear you will believe thetruth. When all is told, if you do not agree he deserved the lashing weplanned to--"

"I'll hear no more!"

"You will bitterly repent it, madam. For your own sake I entreat--"

"And I also, " broke in M. Beaucaire. "Permit me, mademoiselle; let himspeak. "

"Then let him be brief, " said Lady Mary, "for I am earnest to be quit ofhim. His explanation or an attack on my friend and on my carriage shouldbe made to my brother. "

"Alas that he was not here, " said the Duke, "to aid me! Madam, was yourcarriage threatened? I have endeavored only to expunge a debt I owed toBath and to avenge an insult offered to yourself through--"

"Sir, sir, my patience will bear little more!"

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

She made an angry gesture of assent. 

"Madam, I will be brief as I may. Two months ago there came to Bath aFrench gambler calling himself Beaucaire, a desperate fellow with thecards 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 andmustachio. He had the insolence to show himself everywhere until theMaster of Ceremonies rebuffed him in the pump-room, as you know, andafter that he forbore his visits to the rooms. Mr. Nash explained (andwas confirmed, madam, by indubitable information) that this Beaucairewas a man of unspeakable, vile, low birth, being, in fact, no other thana lackey of the French king's ambassador, Victor by name, de Mirepoix'sbarber. Although his condition was known, the hideous impudence of thefellow did not desert him, and he remained in Bath, where none wouldspeak to him. "

"Is your farrago nigh done, sir?"

"A few moments, madam. One evening, three weeks gone, I observed a veryelegant equipage draw up to my door, and the Duke of Chateaurien wasannounced. The young man's manners were worthy--according to the Frenchacceptance--and 'twere idle to deny him the most monstrous assurance. Hedeclared himself a noble traveling for pleasure. He had taken lodgingsin Bath for a season, he said, and called at once to pay his respectsto me. His tone was so candid--in truth, I am the simplest of men, veryeasily gulled--and his stroke so bold, that I did not for one momentsuspect him; and, to my poignant regret--though in the humblest spiritI have shown myself eager to atone--that very evening I had the shame ofpresenting him to yourself. "

"The shame, sir!"

"Have patience, pray, madam. Ay, the shame! You know what figure he hathcut in Bath since that evening. All ran merrily with him until severaldays ago Captain Badger denounced him as an impostor, vowing thatChateaurien was nothing. "

"Pardon, " interrupted M. Beaucaire. "'Castle Nowhere' would have been somuch better. Why did you not make him say it that way, monsieur?"

Lady Mary started; she was looking at the Duke, and her face was white. He continued: "Poor Captain Badger was stabbed that same day. --"

"Most befitting poor Captain Badger, " muttered Molyneux. 

"----And his adversary had the marvelous insolence to declare that hefought in my quarrel! This afternoon the wounded man sent for me, andimparted a very horrifying intelligence. He had discovered a lackey whomhe had seen waiting upon Beaucaire in attendance at the door ofthis Chateaurien's lodging. Beaucaire had disappeared the day beforeChateaurien's arrival. Captain Badger looked closely at Chateaurien attheir next meeting, and identified him with the missing Beaucaire beyondthe faintest doubt. Overcome with indignation, he immediately proclaimedthe impostor. Out of regard for me, he did not charge him with beingBeaucaire; the poor soul was unwilling to put upon me the humiliation ofhaving introduced a barber; but the secret weighed upon him till he sentfor me and put everything in my hands. I accepted the odium; thinkingonly of atonement. I went to Sir John Wimpledon's. I took poor SirHugh, there, and these other gentlemen aside, and told them my news. Wenarrowly observed this man, and were shocked at our simplicity in nothaving 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 ofhis smooth face and his light hair, the adventurer Beaucaire waswrit upon him amazing plain. Look at him, madam, if he will dare theinspection. You saw this Beaucaire well, the day of his expulsion fromthe rooms. Is not this he?"

M. Beaucaire stepped close to her. Her pale face twitched. 

"Look!" he said. 

"Oh, oh!" she whispered with a dry throat, and fell back in thecarriage. 

"Is it so?" cried the Duke. 

"I do not know. --I--cannot tell. "

"One moment more. I begged these gentlemen to allow me to wipe out theinsult I had unhappily offered to Bath, but particularly to you. Theyagreed not to forestall me or to interfere. I left Sir John Wimpledon'searly, and arranged to give the sorry rascal a lashing under your owneyes, a satisfaction due the lady into whose presence he had dared toforce himself. "

"'Noblesse oblige'?" said M. Beaucaire in a tone of gentle inquiry. 

"And now, madam, " said the Duke, "I will detain you not one secondlonger. I plead the good purpose of my intentions, begging you tobelieve that the desire to avenge a hateful outrage, next to the wish toserve you, forms the dearest motive in the heart of Winterset. "

"Bravo!" cried Beaucaire softly. 

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

"Monsieur should not have been born so high. He could have made littlebook'. "

"You mean it is false?" she cried breathlessly. 

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

"It is all false?" she whispered. 

"The mos' fine art, mademoiselle. How long you think it take M. DeWinterset to learn that speech after he write it out? It is a mix ofwhat is true and the mos' chaste art. Monsieur has become a man ofletters. Perhaps he may enjoy that more than the wars. Ha, ha!"

Mr. Bantison burst into a roar of laughter. "Do French gentlemenfight lackeys? Ho, ho, ho! A pretty country! We English do as was doneto-night, have our servants beat them. "

"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. "

"Will you answer a question?" said Molyneux mildly. 

"Oh, with pleasure, monsieur. "

"Were you ever a barber?"

"No, monsieur, " laughed the young man. 

"Pah!" exclaimed Bantison. "Let me question him. Now, fellow, aconfession may save you from jail. Do you deny you are Beaucaire?"

"Deny to a such judge?"

"Ha!" said Bantison. "What more do you want, Molyneux? Fellow, do youdeny that you came to London in the ambassador's suite?"

"No, I do not deny. "

"He admits it! Didn't you come as his barber?"

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

"I'm sorry, " said Molyneux. "You fight like a gentleman. "

"I thank you, monsieur. "

"You called yourself Beaucaire?"

"Yes, monsieur. " He was swaying to and fro; his servants ran to supporthim. 

"I wish--" continued Molyneux, hesitating. "Evil take me!--but I'msorry you're hurt. "

"Assist Sir Hugh into my carriage, " said Lady Mary. 

"Farewell, mademoiselle!" M. Beaucaire's voice was very faint. His eyeswere fixed upon her face. She did not look toward him. 

They were propping Sir Hugh on the cushions. The Duke rode up close toBeaucaire, but Francois seized his bridle fiercely, and forced the horseback on its haunches. 

"The man's servants worship him, " said Molyneux. 

"Curse your insolence!" exclaimed the Duke. "How much am I to bear fromthis varlet and his varlets? Beaucaire, if you have not left Bath byto-morrow noon, you will be clapped into jail, and the lashing youescaped to-night shall be given you thrice tenfold!"

"I shall be-in the--Assemily--Room' at nine--o'clock, one week--from--to-night, " answered the young man, smiling jauntily, thoughhis lips were colorless. The words cost him nearly all his breath andstrength. "You mus' keep--in the--backgroun', monsieur. Ha, ha!" Thedoor of the coach closed with a slam. 

"Mademoiselle--fare--well!"

"Drive on!" said Lady Mary. 

M. Beaucaire followed the carriage with his eyes. As the noise of thewheels and the hoof-beats of the accompanying cavalcade grew fainter inthe distance, the handkerchief he had held against his side dropped intothe white dust, a heavy red splotch. 

"Only--roses, " he gasped, and fell back in the arms of his servants. 

Chapter Five

Beau Nash stood at the door of the rooms, smiling blandly upon a daintythrong in the pink of its finery and gay furbelows. The great exquisitebent 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 graciousfriendliness and a twinkle of raillery; inclining with fatherlygallantry before the beauties; the degree of his inclination measuredthe altitude of the recipient as accurately as a nicely calculatedsand-glass measures the hours. 

The King of Bath was happy, for wit, beauty, fashion--to speak moreconcretely: nobles, belles, gamesters, beaux, statesmen, and poets--made fairyland (or opera bouffe, at least) in his dominions; play ranhigher and higher, and Mr. Nash's coffers filled up with gold. Tocrown his pleasure, a prince of the French blood, the young Comte deBeaujolais, just arrived from Paris, had reached Bath at noon in state, accompanied by the Marquis de Mirepoix, the ambassador of Louis XV. TheBeau dearly prized the society of the lofty, and the present visit wasan 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 wasthat 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 went merrily, their melodies chiming sweetly with thejoyance of his mood. 

The skill and brazen effrontery of the ambassador's scoundrelly servantin passing himself off for a man of condition formed the point ofdeparture for every conversation. It was discovered that there were butthree persons present who had not suspected him from the first; and, bya singular paradox, the most astute of all proved to be old Mr. Bicksit, the traveler, once a visitor at Chateaurien; for he, according toreport, had by a coup of diplomacy entrapped the impostor into anadmission that there was no such place. However, like poor CaptainBadger, the worthy old man had held his peace out of regard for the Dukeof Winterset. This nobleman, heretofore secretly disliked, suspectedof irregular devices at play, and never admired, had won admiration andpopularity by his remorse for the mistake, and by the modesty of hisattitude in endeavoring to atone for it, without presuming upon theprivilege of his rank to laugh at the indignation of society; an actionthe more praiseworthy because his exposure of the impostor entailed thedisclosure of his own culpability in having stood the villain's sponsor. To-night, 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 countryseat, while several ruined Jews might be paid out of prison. Peoplegazing on the beauty and the stately but modest hero by her side, saidthey would make a noble pair. She had long been distinguished by hisattentions, and he had come brilliantly out of the episode of theFrenchman, who had been his only real rival. Wherever they went, therearose a buzz of pleasing gossip and adulation. Mr. Nash, seeing themnear him, came forward with greetings. A word on the side passed betweenthe nobleman and the exquisite. 

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

"You have arranged?" asked the Duke. 

"Fourteen bailiffs are watching without. He could not come withingunshot. If they clap eyes on him, they will hustle him to jail, and hiscutthroats shall not avail him a hair's weight. The impertinent sworehe'd be here by nine, did he?"

"He said so; and 'tis a rash dog, sir. "

"It is just nine now. "

"Send out to see if they have taken him. "

"Gladly. "

The Beau beckoned an attendant, and whispered in his ear. 

Many of the crowd had edged up to the two gentlemen with apparentcarelessness, to overhear their conversation. Those who did overhearrepeated it in covert asides, and this circulating undertone, confirminga vague rumor that Beaucaire would attempt the entrance that night, lenta pleasurable color of excitement to the evening. The French prince, theambassador, and their suites were announced. Polite as the assemblywas, it was also curious, and there occurred a mannerly rush to see thenewcomers. Lady Mary, already pale, grew whiter as the throng closedround her; she looked up pathetically at the Duke, who lost no time inextricating her from the pressure. 

"Wait here, " he said; "I will fetch you a glass of negus, " anddisappeared. He had not thought to bring a chair, and she, looking aboutwith an increasing faintness and finding none, saw that she was standingby the door of a small side-room. The crowd swerved back for the passageof the legate of France, and pressed upon her. She opened the door, andwent in. 

The room was empty save for two gentlemen, who were quietly playingcards at a table. They looked up as she entered. They were M. Beaucaireand Mr. Molyneux. 

She uttered a quick cry and leaned against the wall, her hand to herbreast. Beaucaire, though white and weak, had brought her a chair beforeMolyneux could stir. 

"Mademoiselle--"

"Do not touch me!" she said, with such frozen abhorrence in her voicethat he stopped short. "Mr. Molyneux, you seek strange company!"

"Madam, " replied Molyneux, bowing deeply, as much to Beaucaire as toherself, "I am honored by the presence of both of you. 

"Oh, are you mad!" she exclaimed, contemptuously. 

"This gentleman has exalted me with his confidence, madam, " he replied. 

"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 shouldcome? M. Molyneux was so obliging as to answer for me to the fourteenfrien's of M. De Winterset and Meestaire Nash. "

"Do you not know, " she turned vehemently upon Molyneux, "that he will beremoved the moment I leave this room? Do you wish to be dragged outwith him? For your sake, sir, because I have always thought you a manof heart, I give you a chance to save yourself from disgrace--and--yourcompanion from jail. Let him slip out by some retired way, and youmay give me your arm and we will enter the next room as if nothing hadhappened. Come, sir--"

"Mademoiselle--"

"Mr. Molyneux, I desire to hear nothing from your companion. Had I notseen you at cards with him I should have supposed him in attendance asyour lackey. Do you desire to take advantage of my offer, sir?"

"Mademoiselle, I could not tell you, on that night--"

"You may inform your high-born friend, Mr. Molyneux, that I heardeverything he had to say; that my pride once had the pleasure oflistening to his high-born confession!"

"Ah, it is gentle to taunt one with his birth, mademoiselle? Ah, no!There is a man in my country who say strange things of that--that a manis not his father, but himself. "

"You may inform your friend, Mr. Molyneux, that he had a chance todefend himself against accusation; that he said all--"

"That I did say all I could have strength to say. Mademoiselle, you didnot see--as it was right--that I had been stung by a big wasp. It wasnothing, a scratch; but, mademoiselle, the sky went round and the moondance' on the earth. I could not wish that big wasp to see he had stungme; so I mus' only say what I can have strength for, and stand straighttill he is gone. Beside', there are other rizzons. Ah, you mus' belief!My Molyneux I sen' for, and tell him all, because he show courtesyto 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 clearlyso; you do belief, mademoiselle?"

She did not even look at him. M. Beaucaire lifted his hand appealinglytoward her. "Can there be no faith in--in--he said timidly, and paused. She was silent, a statue, my Lady Disdain. 

"If you had not belief' me to be an impostor; if I had never said I wasChateaurien; if I had been jus' that Monsieur Beaucaire of the storythey tol' you, but never with the heart of a lackey, an hones' man, aman, the man you knew, himself, could you--would you--" He was tryingto speak firmly; yet, as he gazed upon her splendid beauty, hechoked slightly, and fumbled in the lace at his throat with unsteadyfingers. --"Would you--have let me ride by your side in the autumnmoonlight?" Her glance passed by him as it might have passed by afootman or a piece of furniture. He was dressed magnificently, amultitude of orders glittering on his breast. Her eye took no knowledgeof him. 

"Mademoiselle-I have the honor to ask you: if you had known thisBeaucaire was hones', though of peasant birth, would you--"

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

"Mr. Molyneux, " said Lady Mary, "in spite of your discourtesy inallowing a servant to address me, I offer you a last chance to leavethis room undisgraced. Will you give me your arm?"

"Pardon me, madam, " said Mr. Molyneux. 

Beaucaire dropped into a chair with his head bent low and his armoutstretched on the table; his eyes filled slowly in spite of himself, and two tears rolled down the young man's cheeks. 

"An' live men are jus'--names!" said M. Beaucaire. 

Chapter Six

In the outer room, Winterset, unable to find Lady Mary, and supposingher to have joined Lady Rellerton, disposed of his negus, thenapproached 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 ofquiet bearing--he was surrounded by a group of the great, among whom Mr. Nash naturally counted himself. The Beau was felicitating himself thatthe foreigners had not arrived a week earlier, in which case he and Bathwould have been detected in a piece of gross ignorance concerning theFrench nobility--making much of de Mirepoix's ex-barber. 

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

"Thank me for it, " rejoined Winterset. 

An attendant begged Mr. Nash's notice. The head bailiff sent word thatBeaucaire had long since entered the building by a side door. It wassupposed 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 forhim. Consternation was so plain on the Beau's trained face that the Dukeleaned toward him anxiously. 

"The villain's in, and Molyneux hath gone mad!"

Mr. Bantison, who had been fiercely elbowing his way toward them, joinedheads with them. "You may well say he is in, " he exclaimed "and if youwant to know where, why, in yonder card-room. I saw him through thehalf-open door. "

"What's to be done?" asked the Beau. 

"Send the bailiffs--"

"Fie, fie! A file of bailiffs? The scandal!"

"Then listen to me, " said the Duke. "I'll select half-a-dozen gentlemen, explain the matter, and we'll put him in the center of us and take himout to the bailiffs. 'Twill appear nothing. Do you remain here andkeep the attention of Beaujolais and de Mirepoix. Come, Bantison, fetchTownbrake and Harry Rakell yonder; I'll bring the others. "

Three minutes later, his Grace of Winterset flung wide the card-roomdoor, and, after his friends had entered, closed it. 

"Ah!" remarked M. Beaucaire quietly. "Six more large men. "

The Duke, seeing Lady Mary, started; but the angry signs of herinterview had not left her face, and reassured him. He offered his handto conduct her to the door. "May I have the honor?"

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

"As you will, madam, " he answered, not displeased. "And now, youimpudent villain, " he began, turning to M. Beaucaire, but to fall backastounded. "'Od's blood, the dog hath murdered and robbed some royalprince!" He forgot Lady Mary's presence in his excitement. "Lay hands onhim!" he shouted. "Tear those orders from him!"

Molyneux threw himself between. "One word!" he cried. "One word beforeyou offer an outrage you will repent all your lives!"

"Or let M. De Winterset come alone, " laughed M. Beaucaire. 

"Do you expect me to fight a cut-throat barber, and with bare hands?"

"I think one does not expec' monsieur to fight anybody. Would I fightyou, 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 tosoil my hand with a--"

"Stuff his lying mouth with his orders!" shouted the Duke. 

But Molyneux still held the gentlemen back. "One moment, " he cried. 

"M. De Winterset, " said Beaucaire, "of what are you afraid? Youcalculate well. Beaucaire might have been belief--an impostor that youyourself expose'? Never! But I was not goin' reveal that secret. Youhave not absolve me of my promise. "

"Tell what you like, " answered the Duke. "Tell all the wild liesyou have time for. You have five minutes to make up your mind to goquietly. "

"Now you absolve me, then? Ha, ha! Oh, yes! Mademoiselle, " he bowed toLady Mary, "I have the honor to reques' you leave the room. You shallmiss no details if these frien's of yours kill me, on the honor of aFrench gentleman. "

"A French what?" laughed Bantison. 

"Do you dare keep up the pretense?" cried Lord Town brake. "Know, youvillain barber, that your master, the Marquis de Mirepoix, is in thenext room. "

Molyneux heaved a great sigh of relief. "Shall I--" He turned to M. Beaucaire. 

The young man laughed, and said: "Tell him come here at once. 

"Impudent to the last!" cried Bantison, as Molyneux hurried from theroom. 

"Now you goin' to see M. Beaucaire's master, " said Beaucaire to LadyMary. "'Tis true what I say, the other night. I cross from Prance in hissuite; my passport say as his barber. Then to pass the ennui of exile, Icome to Bath and play for what one will. It kill the time. But when thepeople hear I have been a servant they come only secretly; and thereis one of them--he has absolve' me of a promise not to speak--of him Ilearn something he cannot wish to be tol'. I make some trouble to learnthis thing. Why I should do this? Well--that is my own rizzon. So I makethis man help me in a masque, the unmasking it was, for, as there is noone to know me, I throw off my black wig and become myself--and so Iam 'Chateaurien, ' Castle Nowhere. Then this man I use', this Winterset, he--"

"I have great need to deny these accusations?" said the Duke. 

"Nay, " said Lady Mary wearily. 

"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 LordTownbrake. 

"No, monsieur. In France I have got a cousin who is a man with a verybad temper at some time', and he will never enjoy his relatives to dowhat he does not wish--"

He was interrupted by a loud commotion from without. The door was flungopen, and the young Count of Beaujolais bounded in and threw his armsabout the neck of M. Beaucaire. 

"Philippe!" he cried. "My brother, I have come to take you back withme. "

M. De Mirepoix followed him, bowing as a courtier, in deference; but M. Beaucaire took both his hands heartily. Molyneux came after, with Mr. Nash, and closed the door. 

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

"Thou best of masters!" said Beaucaire, touching him fondly on theshoulder. "I know. Your courier came safely. And so I am forgiven! ButI forget. " He turned to the lady. She had begun to tremble exceedingly. "Faires' of all the English fair, " he said, as the gentlemen bowed lowto 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. LadyMary has been very kind to me, my frien's; you mus' help me make myacknowledgment. Mademoiselle and gentlemen, will you give me that favourto detain you one instan'?"

"Henri, " he turned to the young Beaujolais, "I wish you had shared mymasque--I have been so gay!" The surface of his tone was merry, butthere was an undercurrent, weary--sad, to speak of what was the mood, not the manner. He made the effect of addressing every one present, buthe looked steadily at Lady Mary. Her eyes were fixed upon him, with asilent and frightened fascination, and she trembled more and more. "I ama great actor, Henri. These gentlemen are yet scarce convince' I am nota lackey! And I mus' tell you that I was jus' now to be expelled forhaving been a barber!"

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

"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 andcavaliers look on, and they still think me a servant. Oh, I am a greatactor! 'Tis true there is not a peasant in France who would not havethen known one 'born'; but they are wonderful, this English people, holding by an idea once it is in their heads--a mos' worthy quality. Butmy good Molyneux here, he had speak to me with courtesy, jus' becauseI am a man an' jus' because he is always kind. (I have learn' thathis great-grandfather was a Frenchman. ) So I sen' to him and tell himev'rything, and he gain admittance for me here to-night to await myfrien's. 

"I was speaking to messieurs about my cousin, who will meddle in theaffair' of his relatives. Well, that gentleman, he make a marriage forme with a good and accomplish' lady, very noble and very beautiful--andamiable. " (The young count at his elbow started slightly at this, butimmediately appeared to wrap himself in a mantle of solemn thought. )"Unfortunately, when my cousin arrange' so, I was a dolt, a littleblockhead; I swear to marry for myself and when I please, or never ifI like. That lady is all things charming and gentle, and, in truth, sheis--very much attach' to me--why should I not say it? I am so proud ofit. She is very faithful and forgiving and sweet; she would be thesame, I think, if I--were even--a lackey. But I? I was a dolt, a littleunsensible 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!' 'Littlefool, ' he answer, 'she is the one for you. Am I not wiser than you?' Andhe was very angry, and, as he has influence in France, word come' thathe will get me put in Vincennes, so I mus' run away quick till his angeris gone. My good frien' Mirepoix is jus' leaving for London; he take'many risk' for my sake; his hairdresser die before he start', so Itravel as that poor barber. But my cousin is a man to be afraid of whenhe 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 alland 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 alwaysfond of that. But three day' ago M. Le Marquis send me a courier to saythat my brother, who know where I had run away, is come from France tosay that my cousin is appease'; he need me for his little theatre, theplay cannot go on. I do not need to espouse mademoiselle. All shall beforgiven if I return, and my brother and M. De Mirepoix will meet me inBath to felicitate. 

"There is one more thing to say, that is all. I have said I learn' asecret, and use it to make a man introduce me if I will not tell. He hasabsolve' me of that promise. My frien's, I had not the wish to ruin thatman. I was not receive'; Meestaire Nash had reboff me; I had no otherway excep' to use this fellow. So I say, 'Take me to Lady Malbourne'sball as "Chateaurien. "' I throw off my wig, and shave, and behol', I amM. Le Duc de Castle Nowhere. Ha, ha! You see?"

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 thatcoward, that card-cheat there!"

Winterset made a horrible effort to laugh. The gentlemen who surroundedhim fell away as from pestilence. "A French gentleman!" he sneeredsavagely, and yet fearfully. "I don't know who you are. Hide behind asmany toys and ribbons as you like; I'll know the name of the man whodares bring such a charge!"

"Sir!" cried de Mirepoix sharply, advancing a step towards him; but hechecked himself at once. He made a low bow of state, first to the youngFrenchman, then to Lady Mary and the company. "Permit me, Lady Maryand gentlemen, " he said, "to assume the honor of presenting you to HisHighness, Prince Louis-Philippe de Valois, Duke of Orleans, Duke ofChartres, Duke of Nemours, Duke of Montpeti'sier, First Prince ofthe Blood Royal, First Peer of France, Lieutenant-General of FrenchInfantry, Governor of Dauphine, Knight of the Golden Fleece, GrandMaster of the Order of Notre Dame, of Mount Carmel, and of St. Lazarusin Jerusalem; and cousin to His most Christian Majesty, Louis theFifteenth, King of France. "

"Those are a few of my brother's names, " whispered Henri of Beaujolaisto Molyneux. "Old Mirepoix has the long breath, but it take' a strongman two day' to say all of them. I can suppose this Winterset know' nowwho bring the charge!"

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

"The Duke of Orleans will receive a message from me within the hour!"said Winterset, as he made his way to the door. His face was black withrage and shame. 

"I tol' you that I would not soil my hand with you, " answered the youngman. "If you send a message no gentleman will bring it. Whoever shallbear 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 me? Itis a bitter--mistake-I have made. Forgive. "

"Forgive?" he answered, and his voice was as broken as hers; but he wenton, 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 youtreat' me. It is to her that I am goin' to make reparation. You knowsomething, Henri? I am not goin' back only because the king forgive'me. I am goin' to please him; I am goin' to espouse mademoiselle, ourcousin. My frien's, I ask your felicitations. "

"And the king does not compel him!" exclaimed young Henri. 

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

He offered his hand to Lady Mary. "Mademoiselle is fatigue'. Will shehonor 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 fadedrose-leaves fell, and lay strewn on the floor behind them. He opened thedoor, and the lights shone on a multitude of eager faces turned towardit. There was a great hum of voices, and, over all, the fiddles wove awandering air, a sweet French song of the voyageur. 

He bowed very low, as, with fixed and glistening eyes, Lady MaryCarlisle, the Beauty of Bath, passed slowly by him and went out of theroom.