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diff --git a/old/mbeau10.txt b/old/mbeau10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..79b2840 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/mbeau10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1898 @@ +Project Gutenberg Etext Monsieur Beaucaire, by Booth Tarkington +#8 in our series by Booth Tarkington + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. 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As the unshod +half-dozen 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 +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 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 pomp-room? +Monsieur is unfortunate to have come on foot and alone to my +apartment." + +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 resentful 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; only disgrace!" 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 +deportment amongs' 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 Duc appoint' me to all the office' of his househol'." + +"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, night or day, for what one will, +for any long, and al - ways fair, monsieur." + +"You outrageous varlet! Every one knows you came to England as the +French Ambassador's barber. What man of fashion will listen to you? +Who will believe you?" + +"All people, monsieur. Do you think I have not calculate', that I +shall make a failure of my little enterprise?" + +"Bah!" + +"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, after when +he play' with Milor' Tappin'ford at the chocolate-house - " + +"You dirty scandal-monger!" the Duke burst out. "I'll - " + +"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 pomp-room; 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 hang-dogs 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 know' I never lie. Not a gentleman +will play you when you come to Paris." + +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 seven-hunder' 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 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 the entree 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 end +of his white forefinger. Then he said: "Monsieur and me goin' to +Lady Malbourne'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, and then said gravely, "You goin' present me to Lady +Mary Carlisle." + +The other laughed in utter scorn. "Lady Mary Carlisle, of all +women alive, 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 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 +you entered it." + +"No, no, no!" + +"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 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 be tolerated - that Bath will receive a barber?" + +"I have the distinction to call monsieur's attention," replied the +young man 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 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 barber of the Marquis de +Mirepoix?' So, is it?" + +"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 candle-light. 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 arrange'; you have nothing to fear." + +"Curse you," said the Duke, "do you think I'm going to be saddled +with you wherever I go as long as you choose?" + +"A mistake. No. All I requi - All I beg - is this one evening. +'Tis all shall be necessary. After, I shall not need monsieur. + +"Take heed to yourself - after!" vouchsafed the Englishman between +his teeth. + +"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 to-night; 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 fashion." + +"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 to-night. '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 dice-box from the table, and hurled it violently through +the open door. "'M. Beaucaire' shall be choke' with his own +dice-box. 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 Chateaurien. Ha, ha! You see? You are my +confrere." + +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 twenty-three," 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 half forgotten his prisoner; other +pictures were before him. + +"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. Gold-haired, 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 +to-night there was nothing for you to ruin, to-morrow 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, 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 be the groun' beneath her little shoe! But to-night, monsieur + - ha, ha! - to-night, monsieur, you and me, two princes, M. le Duc +de Winterset 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! 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 monsieur and me; we are goin' +out in the worl' to-right!" + + +Chapter Two + + +The chairmen swarmed in the street at Lady Malbourne's door, where +the joyous vulgar fought with muddied footmen and tipsy link-boys +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, +there was an eager pressure of the throng to see. + +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 crowd sent up a hearty English cheer for the +Beauty of Bath. + +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 upon +his own. "I am honored, M. de Chateaurien," she said. + +"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 - " + + +"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 your +charity; 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. +Her beauty 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 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 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, +my brother, a good-night. I wish you dreams of roses, red roses, +only beautiful red, red roses!" + +"Stay! Did you see the look she gave these street folk when they +shouted for her? And how are you higher than they, when she knows? +As high as yonder horse-boy!" + +"Red roses, my brother, only roses. I wish you dreams of red, red +roses!" + + +Chapter Three + + +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 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 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 by his +lack of taste in such matters. + +But he was not long wanting the occasion to prove his taste in the +matter of handling a weapon. A certain led-captain, Rohrer by name, +notorious, amongst other things, for bearing a dexterous and +bloodthirsty blade, came to Bath post-haste, one night, and jostled +heartily against him, in the pump-room 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 Bourbon-Conti. 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 swine of the gutter!" + +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." + +The conduct of M. de Chateaurien was pronounced admirable. + +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 house with black brows. + +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 god-father. +You mus' get the courage yourself." + +"I told you a rose had a short life," was the answer. + +"Oh, those roses! 'Tis the very greates' rizzon to gather each day +a fresh one." He took a red bud from his breast for an instant, and +touched it to his lips. + +"M. de Chateaurien!" It was Lady Mary's voice; she stood at a table +where a vacant place had been left beside her. "M. de Chateaurien, +we have been waiting very long for you." + +The Duke saw the look she did not know she gave the Frenchman, and +he lost 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 +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 close to +that adorable window which framed the fairest face in England. + +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 lashes. + +"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 +snow, and the blue sky of a lady'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 +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 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 grow +brilliant enough to detect the assurance that lies beneath the +courtesies of our own gallants." + +"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 the darkness of the coach. + +"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. 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 +so col' - for jus' me." + +She did not answer. + +"Turn to me," he said. + +The fragrance of the fields came to them, and from the distance the +faint, clear note of a hunting-horn. + +"Turn to me. + +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. + +"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 of hoof-beats. The gentlemen riding idly in front +of the coach scattered to the hedge-sides; and, with drawn swords +flashing in the moon, a party of horsemen 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 the coach. "Sacred swine!" he cried bitterly. "To endanger a +lady, to make this 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 a +circle. + +"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 brute. The fellow came suddenly to the ground, and lay +there. + +"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 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 Hugh held the door. + +"Sit quiet, madam," he said to her; then, to the man on the box, +"Drive on." + +"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 - ah! Look at that! 'Tis +a shame!" + +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 fencing-masters; 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 young +man was laughing 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 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 down, his sword +in fragments, but his voice unbroken and clear. + +"Shame!" muttered one or two of the gentlemen about the coach. + +"'Twas dastardly to take him so, said Molyneux. "Whatever his +deservings, I'm nigh of a mind to offer bim a rescue in the Duke's +face." + +"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 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 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 they fell upon the +astounded cavaliers. + +"Chateaurien! Chateaurien!" they shouted, and smote so swiftly +that, through lack of time, they showed no proper judgment, +discriminating nothing between non-combatants 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. + +"Our just deserts," said Mr. Moly-neux, his mouth full of dust and +philosophy. + +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 +non-combatants, choking with expletives, consumed with wrath, were +prisoners, disarmed by the Frenchman's lackeys. + +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 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 +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 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 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 think? Not so?" + +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 waistcoat. + +"You are hurt!" + +"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 - ways! Can you say +that, mademoiselle?" + +"Monseigneur," she cried in a passion of admiration, "I would what +you would have be, should be. What do you not deserve? You are +the bravest man 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 her anger, 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 your +fellow-craven, Sir Hugh Guilford, there?" + +"Madam," replied Molyneux humbly, "Sir Hugh's leg is broken. Lady +Rellerton 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 a pretty story for the gossips to-morrow! 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 single-handed, while you huddle +in shelter until you are overthrown and disarmed by servants! Oh, +the wits! Heaven save you from the wits!" + +"madam." + +"Address me no more! M. de Chateaurien, Lady Rellerton and I will +greatly esteem the honor of your company. Will you come?" + +She stepped quickly into the coach, and was gathering her skirts +to make room for the Frenchman, when a heavy voice spoke from the +shadows of the tree by the wayside. + +"Lady Mary Carlisle will, no doubt, listen to a word of counsel on +this point." + +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 presence 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 +pressed hard 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 +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. 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 you hear it now." + +"I wish to hear nothing from him - ever!" + +"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 planned 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 +him speak." + +"Then let him be brief," said Lady Mary, "for I am earnest to be quit +of him. His explanation or an attack on my friend and on my carriage +should be made to my +brother." + +"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 - " + +"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 +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 pump-room, 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 speak to him." + +"Is your farrago nigh done, sir?" + +"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 yourself." + +"The shame, sir!" + +"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 Chateaurien was nothing." + +"Pardon," interrupted M. Beaucaire. "'Castle Nowhere' would have +been so much 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 Captam Badger was stabbed that same +day. - " + +"Most befitting poor Captain Badger," muttered Molyneux. + +" - - 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?" + +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 the +carriage. + +"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 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 +whose presence he had dared to force himself." + +"'Noblesse oblige'?" said M. Beaucaire in a tone of gentle inquiry. + +"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, 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 is +false?" she faltered. + +"Monsieur should not have been born so high. He could have made +little book'." + +"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. 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 he may enjoy that more than the wars. Ha, ha!" + +Mr. Bantison burst into a roar of laughter. "Do French gentlemen +fight lackeys? Ho, ho, ho! A pretty country! We English do as +was done to-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, a +confession 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 +you deny 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 +support him. + +"I wish - " continued Molyncux, hesitating. "Evil take me! - but +I'm sorry you're hurt." + +"Assist Sir Hugh into my carriage," said Lady Mary. + +"Farewell, mademoiselle!" M. Beaucaire's voice was very faint. His +eyes were fixed upon her face. She did not look toward him. + +They were propping Sir Hugh on the cushions. The Duke rode up close +to Beaucaire, but Francois seized his bridle fiercely, and forced the +horse back on its haunches. + +"The man's servants worship him," said Molyneux. + +"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 to-morrow noon, you will be clapped into jail, and the +lashing you escaped 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, 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. + +"Mademoiselle - fare - well!" + +"Drive on!" said Lady Mary. + +M. Beaucaire followed the cariiage with his eyes. As the noise of +the wheels and the hoof-beats of the accompanying cavalcade grew +fainter in the distance, the handkerchief he had held against his +side dropped into the 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 +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 nicely calculated sand-glass measures the hours. + +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 went merrily, +their melodies chiming sweetly with the joyance of his mood. + +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. 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 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 the nobleman and the exquisite. + +"I had news of the rascal tonight," whispered Nash. "He lay at a +farm till yesterday, when he disappeared; his ruffians, too." + +"You have arranged?" asked the Duke. + +"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 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 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 +her from the pressure. + +"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 side-room. The crowd swerved +back for the passage of the legate of France, and pressed upon her. +She opened the door, and went in. + +The room was empty save for two gentlemen, who were quietly playing +cards at a table. They looked up as she entered. They were M. +Beaucaire and Mr. Molyneux. + +She uttered a quick cry and leaned against the wall, her hand to her +breast. Beaucaire, though white and weak, had brought her a chair +before Molyneux could stir. + +"Mademoiselle - " + +"Do not touch me!" she said, with such frozen abhorrence in her voice +that he stopped short. "Mr. Molyneux, you seek strange company!" + +"Madam," replied Molyneux, bowing deeply, as much to Beaucaire as +to herself, "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 +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 happened. Come, sir - " + +"Mademoiselle - " + +"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?" + +"Mademoiselle, I could not tell you, on that night - " + +"You may inform your high-born friend, Mr. Molyneux, that I heard +everything he had to say; that my pride once had the pleasure of +listening 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 man is not his father, but himself." + +"You may inform your friend, Mr. Molyneux, that he had a chance to +defend himself against accusation; that he said all - " + +"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 - 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 +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 his breast. Her +eye took no knowledge of him. + +"Mademoiselle-I have the honor to ask you: if you had known this +Beaucaire was hones', though of peasant birth, would you - " + +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 you a last chance to +leave this 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 arm +outstretched 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 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 French 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 +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 the Beau's +trained face that the Duke leaned toward him anxiously. + +"The villain's in, and Molyneux hath gone mad!" + +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 card-room. I saw +him through the half-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 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 bring the others." + +Three minutes later, his Grace of Winterset flung wide the card-room +door, 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 her +interview had not left her face, and reassured him. He offered his +hand to 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 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 orders from him!" + +Molyneux threw himself between. "One word!" he cried. "One word +before you 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 +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 my hand with a - " + +"Stuff his lying mouth with his orders!" shouted the Duke. + +But Molyneux still held the gentiemen back. "One moment," he cried. + +"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 absolve me of my promise." + +"Tell what you like," answered the Duke. "Tell all the wild lies +you have time for. You have five minutes to make up your mind to go +quietly." + +"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 French gentleman." + +"A French what?" laughed Bantison. + +"Do you dare keep up the pretense?" cried Lord Town brake. "Know, +you villain barber, that your master, the Marquis de Mirepoix, is +in the next 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 +the room. + +"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 this man I use', this Winterset, he - " + +"I have great need to deny these accusations?" said the Duke. + +"Nay," said Lady Mary weari1y. + +"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 never enjoy his relatives +to do what he does not wish - " + +He was interrupted by a loud commotion from without. The door was +flung open, and the young Count of Beaujolais bounded in and threw his +arms about the neck of M. Beaucaire. + +"Philippe!" he cried. "My brother, I have come to take you back +with me." + +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 +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 gentlemen, will you give me that favour to detain you one +instan'?" + +"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 +jus' now to be expelled for having 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 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 great-grandfather was a Frenchman.) So I sen' to +him and tell him ev'rything, and he gain admittance for me here +to-night to await my frien's. + +"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 +brother and M. de Mirepoix will meet me in Bath to felicitate. + +"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 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 that coward, that card-cheat 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 Louis-Philippe 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, +Lieutenant-General 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 bring the charge!" + +"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 to the door. His face was +black with rage and shame. + +"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 me? It is a bitter - mistake-I have made. 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. 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' +you think the King of France is a wiser man than me?" + +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 rose-leaves 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 slowly by him and went out of +the room. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext Monsieur Beaucaire, by Booth Tarkington + |