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.
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