ldly nevertheless, for he was resolved that, even if he had to
return from this duchy to prison, he would go with colours flying.

"The proudest moment of my life was when the Duc de Bercy called me
kinsman," he responded; "the best" (had he then so utterly forgotten the
little church of St. Michael's?) "was when he showed me friendship. Yet,
if my trade may not be reconciled with what he may intend for me, I must
ask to be sent back to Monsieur Dalbarade." He smiled hopelessly, yet
with stoical disregard of consequences, and went on: "For my trade is
in full swing these days, and I stand my chance of being exchanged and
earning my daily bread again. At the Admiralty I am a master workman on
full pay, but I'm not earning my salt here. With Monsieur Dalbarade my
conscience would be easier."

He had played his last card. Now he was prepared for the fury of a
jaundiced, self-willed old man, who could ill brook being thwarted.
He had quickly imagined it all, and not without reason, for surely a
furious disdain was at the grey lips, lines of anger were corrugating
the forehead, the rugose parchment face was fiery with distemper.

But what Philip expected did not come to pass. Rising quickly to his
feet, the Duke took him by the shoulders, kissed him on both cheeks, and
said:

"My mind is made up--is made up. Nothing can change it. You have no
father, cousin--well, I will be your father. You shall retain your post
in the English navy-officer and patriot you shall be if you choose. A
brave man makes a better ruler. But now there is much to do. There
is the concurrence of the English King to secure; that shall be--has
already been--my business. There is the assent of Leopold John to
achieve; that I shall command. There are the grave formalities of
adoption to arrange; these I shall expedite. You shall see, Master
Insolence--you, who'd throw me and my duchy over for your trade; you
shall see how the Vaufontaines will gnash their teeth!"

In his heart Philip was exultant, though outwardly he was calm. He was,
however, unprepared for what followed. Suddenly the Duke, putting a hand
on his shoulder, said:

"One thing, cousin, one thing: you must marry in our order, and at once.
There shall be no delay. Succession must be made sure. I know the very
woman--the Comtesse Chantavoine--young, rich, amiable. You shall meet
her to-morrow-to-morrow."

CHAPTER XXI

"The Comtesse Chantavoine, young, rich, amiable. You shall mee