nonsieurr ^eaucaire ffarkington o * THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES ^B eaucare HE young Frenchman did very well what he had planned to do. His guess that the Duke would cheat proved good. 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 Eng- lishman's sleeve. MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "Merci, M. le Due!" 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. Beau- caire, so sharply that the other paused. "Observe behind you." The Englishman turned, and saw what trap he had blundered into; then stood transfixed, impotent, alter- nately 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 de- MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE vote' 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 to- ward the Englishman. "It's murder, is it, you carrion!" finished the Duke. M. Beaucaire lifted his shoulders in a mock shiver. "What words! 3 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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. Mon- sieur has pursue' his studies of deport- ment amongs' his fellow-country- men." "Do you dream a soul in Bath will take your word that I that j " "That M. le Due de Winterset had a card up his sleeve?" "You pitiful stroller, you stable- boy, born in a stable " 4 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "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 Due 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, mon- sieur." "You outrageous varlet! Every one knows you came to England as the French Ambassador's barber. 5 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 en- terprise?" "Bah!" "Will monsieur not reseat him- self?" 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, Frangois. 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; 6 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE every one say that. Is it not so? Think of it. And is there never a w'isper come to M. le Due 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 re- tort upon his own victim? But it is for you to think of what I say. True, I am not reco'nize on the pa- rade; 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 7 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE known for being hones' and fair in my play, and will I not be belief, even I, when I HP my voice and charge you aloud with what is al- ready 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, mon- sieur? 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 hoi* your MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 will- in' to play M. le Due 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 Due, impoverish', some- what in a bad odor as he is, yet com- mand the entree <2#y-where onless I Ha, ha! Eh, monsieur?" "Ha! You dare think to force -*, me MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 Due 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; IP MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE nobody question monsieur's guest. You goin' take me to-night "No!" "Yes. And after then / 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 al- ways forever silent of monsieur's mis- fortune." "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 car- tels 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!" MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "Half the gentlemen in Bath have been here to play. They would know you, wouldn't they, fool? You've had thousands out of Ban- tison, Rakell, Guilford, and Town- brake. 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 es- caped 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 re- ceive a barber?" 12 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "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 de- portment; is it not so? Have you seen me of a fluster, or gross ever, or, what sail I say bourgeois? Shall you be shame' for your guest' man- ner? No, no! And my appearance, is it of the people? Clearly, no. Do I not compare in taste o/ apparel with your yo'ng Englishman? Ha, ha! To be hope'. Ha, ha! So I am goin' talk with Lady Mary Car- lisle." 13 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "Bah!" The Duke made a sav- age burlesque. "'Lady Mary Carlisle, may I assume the honor of presenting the barber of the Marquis de Mire- poix?' 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 assassi- nate 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 ob- 14 a I 1 .<" MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE serve. See how little I ask of you, how very little bit. No one shall rec- o'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. Beau- caire, and clapped his hands gleefully. "Conquered for the night! Aha, it is riz'nable! I shall meet what you 15 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 16 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE observed, "to wish to be seen with people of fashion." "Oh, no, no, no!" The French- man laughed. ' Tis not that. Am I not already one of these 'men of fashion'? I lack only the reputation of birth. Monsieur is goin' sup- ply 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 vio- lently 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 '7 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE merely born to it? I may choose my own. No! Choose for me, mon- sieur. 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 Due, M. le Due 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 Eng- lishman 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 re- joice too much to be of the quality. It has been too great for me, and I 18 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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'. Mon- sieur, 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 re- main comely at thirty. Ours are flowers, yours are stars! See, I be- tray myself, I am so poor a patriot. And there is one among these stars ah, yes, there is one the poor French- man has observe' from his humble distance; even there he could bask in the glowing!" M. Beaucaire turned to the window, and looked out into '9 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 Due to recoup his fortunes. This alliance shall fail. It is not the way 20 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 noth- ing 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 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE yo'ng captains, your nobles, your rat- tles, your beaux ha, ha! and I mus' hoP far aloof. It is sad for me but oh, jus' to watch her and to wonder! Strange it is, but I have al- mos' 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-mel for many oth- ers; and even to you, one day, a rose, while I I, monsieur, could not even be so blessed as to be the groun' be- neath her little shoe! But to-night^ monsieur ha, ha! to-night l , mon- sieur, you and me, two princes, M. le Due de Winterset and M. le Due de Chateaurien ha, ha! you see? we are goin' arm-in-arm to that ball, and 22 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 7 am goin' have one of those looks, 77 And a rose! 77 It is time. But ten minute', monsieur. 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. Frangois, send Louis to me; Victor, to order two chairs for monsieur and me; we are goin' out in the worl' to-night!" iHE chairmen swarmed x | i ,\ in the street at Lady y I \ Malbourne's door, $ M /^^ where the joyous vul- gar fought with mud- dled 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 24 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE ghost of the night's smirk fading to jadedness as they sought the dark re- cesses of their chairs. From within sounded the twang of fiddles still swinging manfully at it, and the win- dows 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 ap- peared 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 peo- 25 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE pie!" he cried. "Why did I not know, so I might have shout' with them?" The lady noticed the peo- ple not at all; whereat, being pleased, the people cheered again. The gen- tleman 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 rever- ently and with the pride of his gal- lant office vibrant in every line of his light figure, invested in white satin and very grand, as he had prophesied, M. le Due de Chateaurien handed Lady Mary Carlisle down the steps, an achievement which had figured in 26 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE the ambitions of seven other gentle- men during the evening. "Am I to be lef* in such on- happiness?" 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 on- worthiness 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. 27 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE / " Never!" she flashed defiantly as she was closed in. "Never!" "Ah!" "Never!" The rose fell at his feet. "A rose lasts tfil 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. "Mon- sieur, 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. 28 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "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!" iWAS well agreed by the fashion of Bath that M. le Due de Chateaurien was a per- son 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 gra- ciousness (his single equal in Bath be- ing his Grace of Winterset); but it 30 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 admira- tion or envy. He was of prodi- gious wealth: old Mr. Bicksit, who dared not, for his fame's sake, fail to have seen all things, had visited Cha- teaurien 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 gam- bler. He cared nothing for the haz- ards of a die or the turn of a card. Gayly admitting that he had been born with no spirit of adventure in 31 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 mat- ter of handling a weapon. A cer- tain led-captain, Rohrer by name, no- torious, 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, con- tinuing 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 be- ing so much in the way. Thereupon 32 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE Rohrer procured an Introduction to him, and made some observations de- rogatory 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 au- thority of Louis XV, who had com- manded him to marry the Princess Henriette, cousin to both of them. The princess was reported to be openly devoted to the cousin who re- fused to accept her hand at the bid- ding of the king; and, as rumor ran, the prince's caprice elected in prefer- ence the discipline of Vincennes, to which retirement the furious king 33 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 French- man 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 rela- tion. 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 34 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 fel- low, 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 35 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE ruffling buck who had the astounding indiscretion to proclaim M. de Cha- teaurien an impostor. There was no Chateaurien, he swore. The French- man laughed in his face, and, at twi- light 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 sta- tion 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 Due had introduced an impostor. Could he overlook the insult to a friend, one to whom he owed his kind recep- tion in Bath? Then, bending over 36 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 beauti- ful Lady Mary Carlisle, nor was there great astonishment that he should ob- tain marked favor in her eyes, shown so plainly that my Lord Townbrake, Sir Hugh Guilford, and the rich Squire Bantison, all of whom had fol- lowed her through three seasons, swore with rage, and his Grace of Winter- set stalked from her aunt's house with black brows. Meeting the Duke there on the 37 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE evening after his second encounter de Chateaurien smiled upon him bril- liantly. "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 in- troduce' 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 38 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 mo- ment. "We approach a climax, eh, mon- sieur?" said M. de Chateaurien. 'HERE fell a clear Sep- tember night, when the moon was radiant over town and coun- try, over cobbled streets and winding roads. From the fields the mists rose slowly, and the air was mild and fragrant, while dis- tances were white and full of mys- tery. All of Bath that pretended to fashion or condition was present that evening at a Jete at the house of a 40 MONSIEUR BEAU^CAIRE country gentleman of the neighbor- hood. 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, en- gaging in indistinct but vigorous re^ monstrance 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 at- tended 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 Eng- land. 41 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE He sang for her a little French song, a song of the voyageur who dreamed of home. The lady, listen- ing, 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 at 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." MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "Cruel! It is that she will not understand 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 Ian* 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 t we even grow bril- liant enough to detect the assurance 43 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 be- lieve 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, blush- ing deeply, and halting to a full stop in terror of a word. There was a silence. "Your true lover," he. said hus- kily. 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 44 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 / am like that. You think I am like that now!" She made no sign. "I suppose," he sighed, "I am un- riz'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 45 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE own gently upon it. The two hands were shakimg 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 beau- tiful!" 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 gentle- 46 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE men 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 blast- ing the night. "Barber! Kill the barber!" they screamed. "Barber! Kill the bar- ber!" Beaucaire had but time to draw his sword when they were upon him. "A mot!" his voice rang out clearly as he rose in his stirrups. "A moi y Frangois, Louis, Berquin! A mot, Frangois!" 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 bit- 47' MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE terly. "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 highway- men. "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 man- aged to drag headlong from his sad- 4 8 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE die 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. 49 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "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 Moly- neux, "'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 '50 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 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 ad- versaries were prostrate, more than MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE one were groaning, and the indomi- table Frenchman had actually almost beat off the ruffians, when, by a trick, he was overcome. One of them, dis- mounting, ran in suddenly from be- hind, and seized his blade in a thick leather gauntlet. Before Beaucaire could disengage the weapon, two oth- ers threw themselves from their horses and hurled him to the earth. "A moil A mot, 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 de- servings, I'm nigh of a mind to offer him a rescue in the Duke's face." "Truss him up, lads," said the 52 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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. Beau- caire toward a great oak by the road- side. Another took from his saddle a heavy whip with three thongs. "A mot, Francois!" , There was borne on the breeze an answer " Monseigneur! Monseig- neur!" The cry grew louder sud- denly. 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 be- 53 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE tween the mists. Chosen men, these servants of Beaucaire, and like a thunderbolt they fell upon the as- tounded 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. Beau- caire, and broke and routed it utterly. Two of them leaped to the young man's side, while the other four, swerving, scarce losing the momen- tum 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- 54' MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE neux, his mouth full of dust and phi- losophy. 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 dis- order, and the patrician non-combat- ants, choking with expletives, con- sumed 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, dilat- ing eyes, that were doubly beautiful 55 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE because of the fright and rage that found room in them, too. M. le Due 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 Frangois, he spoke in French: "Ah, thou scoundrel! A little, and it had been too late." Frangois knelt in the dust before him. "Pardon!" he said. "Mon- seigneur 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 56 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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!" Frangois sprang back, and tossed his arms to heaven. "But it did not happen," said M. Beaucaire. "It could not!'* exclaimed Fran- "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 high- waymen. One should come to a 57 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE polite understanding with them, you think? Not so?" He bowed, offering his hand to conduct her to the coach, where Molyneux and his companions, hav- ing 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 rail- lery 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. Beau- 58 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE caire. Then, that she might not see the stain spreading, he held his hand- kerchief 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 pas- sion 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 French- man." 59 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "Would that a few Englishmen had shown themselves as 'poor' to- night. 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 hum- bly, "Sir Hugh's leg is broken. Lady Rellerton graciously permits him to be taken in." "/ do not permit it! M. de Chateaurien rides with us." "But " "Sir! Leave the wretch to groan 60 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 dis- armed 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 61 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 un- tieing 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 Winter- set!" exclaimed Lady Rellerton. "Turned highwayman and cut- throat," cried Lady Mary. "No, no," laughed M. Beaucaire, somewhat unsteadily, as he stood, 62 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 mon- strous 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 Due 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 63 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 en- treat " "And I also," broke in M. Beau- caire. "Permit me, mademoiselle; let him speak." "Then let him be brief," said Lady Mary, "for I am earnest to 64 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE be quit of him. His explanation of an attack on my friend and on my carriage should be made to my brother." "A]#s 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 65 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 indubit- able 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 ambassa- dor, Victor by name, de Mirepoix's barber. Although his condition was known, the hideous impudence of the fellow did not desert him, and he 66 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 ob- served 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 de- clared 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; 67 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 present- ing him to yourself." "The shame, sir!" , "Have patience, pray, madam. Ay, the shame! You know what fig- ure he hath cut in Bath since that evening. All ran merrily with him until several days ago Captain Badger denounced him as an impostor, vow- ing that Chateaurien was nothing." "Pardon," interrupted M. Beau- caire. "'Castle Nowhere' would have been so much better. Why did you not make him say it that way, monsieur?" Lady Mary started; she was look- ing at the Duke, and her face was 68 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE white. He continued: "Poor Cap- tain Badger was stabbed that same day " "Most befitting poor Captain Badger," muttered Molyneux. And his adversary had the mar- velous insolence to declare that he fought in my quarrel! This after- noon the wounded man sent for me, and imparted a very horrifying intel- ligence. He had discovered a lackey whom he had seen waiting upon Beaucaire in attendance at the door of this Chateaurien's lodging. Beau- caire 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 be- yond the faintest doubt. Overcome 69 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE with indignation, he immediately proclaimed the impostor. Out cf 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 atone- ment. I went to Sir John Wimple- don's fete. 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 hav- ing discovered him before. These are men of honor and cool judgment, madam. Mr. Molyneux had acted for him in the affair of Captain 70 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 car- riage. "Is it so?" cried the Duke. "I do not know. I cannot tell." "One moment more. I begged MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 him- self." "'Noblesse oblige'?" said M. Beau- caire 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." MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "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 con- vinced?" broke out Mr. Bantison. "Fellow, were you not the ambassa- dor'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. Mon- sieur has become a man of letters. 73 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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. 74 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "Pah!" exclaimed Bantison. "Let me question him. Now, fel- low, a confession may save you from jail. Do you deny you are Beau- caire?" "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." 75 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "You called yourself Beaucaire?" "Yes, monsieur." He was sway- ing 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 car- riage," 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. 76 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "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 Assembly 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. 77 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE M. Beaucaire followed the carriage with his eyes. As the noise of the wheels and the hoof-beats of the ac- companying cavalcade grew fainter in the distance, the handkerchief he had held against his side dropped in- to the white dust, a heavy red splotch. "Only roses," he gasped, and fell back in the arms of his servants. t EAU 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 ex- quisite 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 gracious MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE friendliness and a twinkle of raillery; inclining with fatherly gallantry be- fore 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 Beaujo- lais, just arrived from Paris, had reached Bath at noon in state, ac- companied by the Marquis de Mire- 80 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE poix, 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 be- nignly than on that bright evening. The rooms rang with the silvery voices of women and delightful laughter, while the fiddles went mer- rily, 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 de- parture for every conversation. It was discovered that there were but 81 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 Chateau- rien; 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 dis- liked, suspected of irregular devices at play, and never admired, had won admiration and popularity by his re- morse for the mistake, and by the modesty of his attitude in endeavor- ing to atone for it, without presum- ing upon the privilege of his rank to 82 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 vil- lain'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 sev- eral 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 83 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE had been his only real rival. Wher- ever 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 to- night/* whispered Nash. "He lay at a farm till yesterday, when he dis- appeared; 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?" 8 4 MONSIEUR BEAUCA1RE "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 conver- sation. Those who did overhear re- peated 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 85 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 dis- appeared. He had not thought to bring a chair, and she, looking about with an increasing faintness and find- ing 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 86 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE gentlemen, who were quietly playing cards at a table. They looked up as she entered. They were M. Beau- caire 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. Moly- neux, you seek strange company!" "Madam," replied Molyneux, bow- ing deeply, as much to Beaucaire as to herself, "I am honored by the presence of both of you." "Oh, are you mad!" she ex- claimed, contemptuously. 87 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "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," inter- rupted 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 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE disgrace and your companion from jail. Let him slip out by some re- tired 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 attend- ance 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 listen- ing to his high-born confession!" MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "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, made- moiselle, 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 stan' straight till he is gone. Beside', 90 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 91 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE they toP 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 fing- ers. "Would you have let me ride by your side in the autumn moon- light?" 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 " 92 - MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 al- lowing 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. 93 the outer room, Winterset, unable to find Lady Mary, and supposing her to have, joined Lady Reller- ton, disposed of his negus, then ap- proached 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 Mar- quis de Mirepoix a man of quiet 94 A Paramount Picture. Monsieur Beaucaire. Lady Mary's rose had thorns for Beaucaire. MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 ejacu- lated, 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, 95 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE and the Frenchman was not arrested, as Mr. Molyneux was in his com- pany, 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!" 9 6 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "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 en- tered, closed it. "Ah!" remarked M. Beaucairc 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 97 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 an- swered, 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 excite- ment. "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!" 98 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "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' mon- sieur to fight anybody. Would / fight you, you think? That was why I had my servants, that evening we play. I would gladly fight almos* any one in the worl'; 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 gen- tlemen back. "One moment," he cried. "M. de Winterset," said Beau- caire, "of what are you afraid? You calculate well. Beaucaire might have been belief an impostor that you 93 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 Ban- tison. "Do you dare keep up the pre- tense?" cried Lord Townbrake. "Know, you villain barber, that your MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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. Beau- caire's master," said Beaucaire to Lady Mary. ' ' 'Tis true what I say, the other night. I cross from France 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 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 No- where. 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 'Cha- teaurien,' and not myself?" "To escape from the bailiffs for 102 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 com- motion 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. 1 03 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "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 cou- rier came safely. And so I am for- given! 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 pre- sen' 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. Mademoi- selle and gentlemen, will you give 104 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 mc-od, 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 fas- cination, and she trembled more and more. "I am a great actor, Henri. These gentlemen are yet scarce con- vince* I am not a lackey! And I mus' tell you that I was jus' now to be ex- pelled for having been a barber!" "Oh, no!" the ambassador cried 105 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 ob- lige' 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 ac- tor! 'Tis true there is not a peasant in France who would not have then known one 'born'; but they are wonderful, this English people, hold- ing 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' be- cause I am a man an' jus' because he is al ways kind. (I have learn' that his great-grandfather was a French- 106 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE man.) 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 relative'. 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 him- self in a mantle of solemn thought.) "Unfortunately, when my cousin ar- range' so, I was a dolt, a little block- head; 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 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 unsen- sible 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' Mire- poix 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 108 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 re- treat 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 ap- pease'; 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. 109 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE "There is one more thing to say, that is all. I have said I learn' a secret, and use it to make a man in- troduce 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 fel- low. 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 Due de Castle Nowhere. Ha, ha! You see?" The young man's manner suddenly changed. He became haughty, men- acing. He stretched out his arm, and pointed at Winterset. "Now I am no 'Beaucaire,' messieurs. I am a French gentleman. The man who A Paramount Picture. Monsieur Beaucaire. The Duke assists Lady Mary to alight. MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE introduce' me at the price of his honor, and then betray' me to re- deem it, is that coward, that card- cheat there!" Winterset made a horrible effort to laugh. The gentlemen who sur- rounded him fell away as from pesti- lence. "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 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE me, Lady Mary and gentlemen,'* he said, "to assume the honor of pre- senting you to His Highness, Prince Louis-Philippe de Valois, Duke of Orleans, Duke of Chartres, Duke of Nemours, Duke of Montpensier, First Prince of the Blood Royal, First Peer of France, Lieutenant-General of French Infantry, Governor of Dau- phine, 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 Beaujo- lais to Molyneux. "Old Mirepoix has the long breath, but it take' a strong man two day' to say all of MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 re- ceive 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 to!' you that I would not soil my hand with you," answered the young man. "If you send a message no gentleman will bring it. Who- ever shall bear it will receive a little beating from Frangois." 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 "3 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE 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 noth- ing 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 mademoi- selle, our cousin. My frien's, I ask your felicitations." "And the king does not compel him!" exclaimed young Henri. 114 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE " 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 multi- tude of eager faces turned toward it. There was a great hum of voices, and, over all, the fiddles wove a wan- dering air, a sweet French song of the voyageur. He bowed very low, as, with fixed "5 MONSIEUR BEAUCAIRE and glistening eyes, Lady Mary Car- lisle, the Beauty of Bath, passed slowly by him and went out of the room. THE END There's More to Follow! More stories of the sort you like; more, probably, by the author of this one; more than 500 titles all told by writers of world-wide reputation, in the Authors' Alphabetical List which you will find on the reverse side of the wrapper of this book. Look it over before you lay it aside. There are books here you are sure to want some, possibly, that you have always wanted. It is a selected list; every book in it has achieved a certain measure of success. The Grosset 62 Dunlap list is not only the greatest Index of Good Fiction available, it represents in addition a generally accepted Standard of Value. It will pay you to Look on the Other Side of the Wrap per I In case the wrapper is lost write to tht publishers for a complete catalog BOOTH TARKINGTON'S NOVELS May bi had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grossat & Dunlap's list SEVENTEEN. Illustrated by Arthur William Brown. No one but the creator of Penrod could have portrayed the immortal young people of this story. Its humor is irre- sistible and reminiscent of the time when the reader was Seventeen. PENROD. Illustrated by Gordon Grant. This is a picture of a boy's heart, full of the lovable, hu< morous, tragic things which are locked secrets to most oldef folks. It is a finished, exquisite work. PENROD AND SAM. Illustrated by Worth Brehm. Like " Penrod " and " Seventeen," this book contains some remarkable phases of real boyhood and some of the best stories of juvenile prankishness that have ever been written^ THE TURMOIL. Illustrated by C. E. Chambers. Bibbs Sheridan is a dreamy, imaginative youth, who re- volts against his father's plans for him to be a servitor of big business. The love of a fine girl turns Bibb's life from failure to success. THE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANA. Frontispiece. A story of love and politics, more especially a picture of a country editor's life in Indiana, but the charm of the book lies hi the love interest. THE FLIRT. Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood. The " Flirt," the younger of two sisters, breaks one girl's engagement, drives one man to suicide, causes the murder of another, leads another to lose his fortune, and in the end marries a stupid and unpromising suitor, leaving the really worthy one to marry her sister. A*k for Complete free list of G. 6- D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY, LOS A^GfcLES I \ / QOLIJEC3|B LIBRARY / This J^ook is due on the last date stamped below. DISCHARGE-URL \m RK'D|LD-Um. Book Slip-35wi-9,'62(D2218s4)4280