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 wearily.
"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.
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