the man to break the code of professional honour lightly. If the Duke's
favour and adoption must depend on the answer he must now give, well,
let it be; his last state could not be worse than his first.

So, still standing, he answered the Duke boldly, yet quietly, his new
kinsman watching him with a grim curiosity.

"Monsieur le prince," said Philip, "I am used to poverty, that matters
little; but whatever you intend towards me--and I am persuaded it is to
my great honour and happiness--I am, and must still remain, an officer
of the English navy."

The Duke's brow contracted, and his answer came cold and incisive: "The
navy--that is a bagatelle; I had hoped to offer you heritage. Pooh,
pooh, commanding a frigate is a trade--a mere trade!"

Philip's face did not stir a muscle. He was in spirit the born
adventurer, the gamester who could play for life's largest stakes, lose
all, draw a long breath--and begin the world again.

"It's a busy time in my trade now, as Monsieur Dalbarade would tell you,
Duke."

The Duke's lips compressed as though in anger. "You mean to say,
monsieur, that you would let this wretched war between France and
England stand before our own kinship and alliance? What are you and I in
this great shuffle of events? Have less egotism, less vanity, monsieur.
You are no more than a million others--and I--I am nothing. Come, come,
there is more than one duty in the life of every man, and sometime he
must choose between one and the other. England does not need you"--his
voice and manner softened, he leaned towards Philip, the eyes almost
closing as he peered into his face--"but you are needed by the House of
Bercy."

"I was commissioned to a warship in time of war," answered Philip
quietly, "and I lost that warship. When I can, it is my duty to go
back to the powers that sent me forth. I am still an officer in full
commission. Your Highness knows well what honour claims of me."

"There are hundreds of officers to take your place; in the duchy of
Bercy there is none to stand for you. You must choose between your trade
and the claims of name and blood, older than the English navy, older
than Norman England."

Philip's colour was as good, his manner as easy as if nothing were at
stake; but in his heart he felt that the game was lost--he saw a storm
gathering in the Duke's eyes, the disappointment presently to break out
into wrath, the injured vanity to burst into snarling disdain. But he
spoke bo