"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