llac, clothed in his old green coat and pink stockings, stood
proudly beside De Chemerant; the latter, swelling with pride, seemed to
triumphantly present the chevalier to the English gentlemen.

A little back of De Chemerant stood the captain of the frigate and his
staff. The partisans of Monmouth, picturesquely grouped, surrounded the
Gascon.

The adventurer, although a little pale, retained his audacity; seeing
that he was not recognized, he resumed little by little his accustomed
assurance, and said to himself: "Mortimer must have boasted of knowing
me intimately in order to give himself airs of familiarity with a
nobleman of my degree. Come then, zounds! let that last which can!"

The force of illusion is such that among the gentlemen who pressed
around the adventurer some discovered a very decided "family look" to
Charles II.; others, a striking resemblance to his portraits.

"My lords and gentlemen," said Croustillac, with a gesture toward De
Chemerant, "this gentleman, in reporting to me your wishes, has decided
me to return to your midst."

"My lord duke, with us it is to the death!" cried the most enthusiastic.

"I count on that, my lords; as for me, my motto shall be: 'All for
England and'----"

"This is too much impudence! blood and murder!" thundered Lord Mortimer,
interrupting the chevalier and springing toward him with blazing eyes
and clinched fists, while Dudley upheld Lord Jocelyn.

The apostrophe of Mortimer had an astounding effect on the spectators
and the actors in this scene. The English gentlemen turned quickly
toward Mortimer. De Chemerant and the officers looked at each other with
astonishment, as yet comprehending none of his words.

"Zounds! here we are," thought Croustillac; "only to see this tipsy
brute; I should smell the Mortimer a league off." The nobleman stepped
into the empty space that the gentlemen had left between the Gascon and
themselves, in recoiling; he planted himself before him, his arms
crossed, his eyes flashing, looking him straight in the face, exclaiming
in a voice trembling with rage: "Ah! you are James of Monmouth--you!--it
is to me--Mortimer--that you say that?"

Croustillac was sublime in his impudence and coolness; he answered
Mortimer with an accent of melancholy reproach: "Exile and adversity
must indeed have changed me much if my best friend no longer recognizes
me!" Then, half-turning toward De Chemerant, the chevalier added in a
low tone: "You see, i