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“You have guests, then?” said de Soyecourt. “Ma foi, it is unfortunate. I but desired to confer with Gaston concerning the disposal of Beaujolais and my other properties in France since I find that the sensation of hunger, while undoubtedly novel, is, when too long continued, apt to grow tiresome. I would not willingly intrude, however–“

“Were it not for the fact that you are wealthy, and yet, so long as you preserve your incognito, and remain legally dead, you cannot touch a penny of your fortune! The situation is droll. We must arrange it. Meanwhile you are my guest, and I can assure you that at Ingilby you will be to all Monsieur de Soyecourt, no more and no less. Now let us see what can be done about clothing Monsieur de Soyecourt for dinner–“

“But I could not consider–” Monsieur de Soyecourt protested.

“I must venture to remind you,” the Duke retorted, “that dinner is almost ready, and that Claire is the sort of housewife who would more readily condone fratricide or arson than cold soup.”

“It is odd,” little de Soyecourt said, with complete irrelevance, “that in the end I should get aid of you and of Gaston. And it is odd you should be forgiving my bungling attempts at crime, so lightly–“

Ormskirk considered, a new gravity in his plump face. “Faith, but we find it more salutary, in looking back, to consider some peccadilloes of our own. And we bear no malice, Gaston and I,–largely, I suppose, because contentment is a great encourager of all the virtues. Then, too, we remember that to each of us, at the eleventh hour, and through no merit of his own, was given the one thing worth while in life. We did not merit it; few of us merit anything, for few of us are at bottom either very good or very bad. Nay, my friend, for the most part we are blessed or damned as Fate elects, and hence her favorites may not in reason contemn her victims. For myself, I observe the king upon his throne and the thief upon his coffin, in passage for the gallows; and I pilfer my phrase and I apply it to either spectacle: There, but for the will of God, sits John Bulmer. I may not understand, I may not question; I can but accept. Now, then, let us prepare for dinner” he ended, in quite another tone.

De Soyecourt yielded. He was shown to his rooms, and Ormskirk rang for Damiens, whom the Duke was sending into France to attend to a rather important assassination.

II

At dinner Louis de Soyecourt made divers observations.

First Gaston had embraced him. “And the de G�tinais estates?–but beyond question, my dear Louis! Next week we return to France, and the affair is easily arranged. You may abdicate in due form, you need no longer skulk about Europe disguised as a piano-tuner; it is all one to France, you conceive, whether you or your son reign in Noumaria. You should have come to me sooner. As for your having been in love with my wife, I could not well quarrel with that, since the action would seriously reflect upon my own taste, who am still most hideously in love with her.”

Hélène had stoutened. Monsieur de Soyecourt noted also that Hélène’s gold hair was silvering now, as though Time had tangled cobwebs through it, and that Gaston was profoundly unconscious of the fact. In Gaston’s eyes she was at the most seventeen. Well, Hélène had always been admirable in her management of all, and it would be diverting to see that youngest child of hers…. Meanwhile it was diverting also to observe how conscientiously she was exerting a good influence over Gaston: and de Soyecourt smiled to find that she shook her head at Gaston’s third glass, and that de Puysange did not venture on a fourth. Victoria, to do her justice, had never meddled with any of her husband’s vices….