f his marriage, he was such a fool as to throw off the mask.
And yet at bottom it's quite logical; it's Lupin coming out through
Charmerace. He had to grab at the dowry at the risk of losing the
girl," said Guerchard, in a reflective tone; but his eyes were intent
on the face of the Duke.

"Perhaps that's what one should call a marriage of reason," said the
Duke, with a faint smile.

"What a fall!" said Guerchard, in a taunting voice. "To be expected,
eagerly, at the Princess's to-morrow evening, and to pass the evening
in a police-station ... to have intended in a month's time, as the Duke
of Charmerace, to mount the steps of the Madeleine with all pomp and to
fall down the father-in-law's staircase this evening--this very
evening"--his voice rose suddenly on a note of savage triumph--"with
the handcuffs on! What? Is that a good enough revenge for
Guerchard--for that poor old idiot, Guerchard? The rogues' Brummel in a
convict's cap! The gentleman-burglar in a gaol! For Lupin it's only a
trifling annoyance, but for a duke it's a disaster! Come, in your turn,
be frank: don't you find that amusing?"

The Duke rose quietly, and said coldly, "Have you finished?"

"DO you?" cried Guerchard; and he rose and faced him.

"Oh, yes; I find it quite amusing," said the Duke lightly.

"And so do I," cried Guerchard.

"No; you're frightened," said the Duke calmly.

"Frightened!" cried Guerchard, with a savage laugh.

"Yes, you're frightened," said the Duke. "And don't think, policeman,
that because I'm familiar with you, I throw off a mask. I don't wear
one. I've none to throw off. I AM the Duke of Charmerace."

"You lie! You escaped from the Sante four years ago. You are Lupin! I
recognize you now."

"Prove it," said the Duke scornfully.

"I will!" cried Guerchard.

"You won't. I AM the Duke of Charmerace."

Guerchard laughed wildly.

"Don't laugh. You know nothing--nothing, dear boy," said the Duke
tauntingly.

"Dear boy?" cried Guerchard triumphantly, as if the word had been a
confession.

"What do I risk?" said the Duke, with scathing contempt. "Can you
arrest me? ... You can arrest Lupin ... but arrest the Duke of
Charmerace, an honourable gentleman, member of the Jockey Club, and of
the Union, residing at his house, 34 B, University Street ... arrest
the Duke of Charmerace, the fiance of Mademoiselle Gournay-Martin?"

"Scoundrel!" cried Guerchard, pale with sudden, helpless fury.

"Well, do it," taunted