rs for
this purpose, only to find the man dead. He had made a promise to a
dying man, and at all hazards that promise must be fulfilled. The sooner
it was done, the sooner he could journey to Paris; and their arrival in
Beauvais at the time of this masked ball was fortunate: there need be
little delay.

A little later Monsieur le Comte found them.

"We must needs celebrate your escape," he said. "This is my friend, like
myself an exile from Paris. You are also from Paris?"

"From outside Paris," Barrington answered. For the nonce he must pose as
an aristocrat, and wondered by what name he might best deceive them.
Seth, too, was a grave difficulty. He could show few marks of an
aristocrat.

The Frenchman's next words saved him all trouble, however.

"We do not ask too many questions in Beauvais, Monsieur. That we are
here proves that we do not uphold the people, and we need not too
closely inquire who our neighbor may be. We shall not all wish to
maintain the friendships made in exile when we return to France. Here's
to your safe arrival, Monsieur, and to our speedy return. The sentiment
is of the best vintage, though the wine may be inferior. I warrant the
cellars of the chateau will do better for us to-morrow night. You go to
the ball, Monsieur?"

"I am ill-provided for such an entertainment."

"As are many others," was the laughing answer, "since they were obliged
to leave so hurriedly that there was short time for packing. That need
not deter you, Monsieur, and if you have no opportunity of apprising the
Marquise of your arrival, I believe there are some so poor in their
exile that they would sell their invitation. We do things in Beauvais
that would shame us elsewhere."

"I must confess to not being personally acquainted with the Marquise,"
said Barrington.

"Say no more, Monsieur; you shall have an invitation in the morning. A
few louis will purchase it."

"You overwhelm me with courtesy," said Barrington.

"No, no; it is nothing. To-morrow evening I may have the opportunity of
presenting you to the Marquise."

"And to her niece?"

"Mademoiselle St. Clair? That is as Monsieur wills," he laughed.

"I do not understand your merriment."

"Pardon, Monsieur, but there are not many who crave presentation to
Mademoiselle. You have not heard of her?"

"Nothing but her name."

"Think, Monsieur, of a large woman with black hair and complexion more
swart than beautiful, with large hands that could clasp