tructed to
hint to the world below stairs that my lord being a Papist, and very
devout in that religion, his attendant might be no other than his
chaplain from Bruxelles; hence, if he took his meals in my lord's
company there was little reason for surprise. Frank was further
cautioned to speak English with a foreign accent, which task he
performed indifferently well, and this caution was the more necessary
because the Prince himself scarce spoke our language like a native of
the island: and John Lockwood laughed with the folks below stairs at the
manner in which my lord, after five years abroad, sometimes forgot his
own tongue, and spoke it like a Frenchman. "I warrant," says he, "that,
with the English beef and beer, his lordship will soon get back the
proper use of his mouth;" and, to do his new lordship justice, he took
to beer and beef very kindly.

The Prince drank so much, and was so loud and imprudent in his talk
after his drink, that Esmond often trembled for him. His meals were
served as much as possible in his own chamber, though frequently he made
his appearance in Lady Castlewood's parlor and drawing-room, calling
Beatrix "sister," and her ladyship "mother," or "madam" before the
servants. And, choosing to act entirely up to the part of brother and
son, the Prince sometimes saluted Mrs. Beatrix and Lady Castlewood with
a freedom which his secretary did not like, and which, for his part, set
Colonel Esmond tearing with rage.

The guests had not been three days in the house when poor Jack Lockwood
came with a rueful countenance to his master, and said: "My Lord--that
is the gentleman--has been tampering with Mrs. Lucy (Jack's sweetheart),
and given her guineas and a kiss." I fear that Colonel Esmond's mind was
rather relieved than otherwise when he found that the ancillary beauty
was the one whom the Prince had selected. His royal tastes were known
to lie that way, and continued so in after life. The heir of one of
the greatest names, of the greatest kingdoms, and of the greatest
misfortunes in Europe, was often content to lay the dignity of his birth
and grief at the wooden shoes of a French chambermaid, and to repent
afterwards (for he was very devout) in ashes taken from the dust-pan.
'Tis for mortals such as these that nations suffer, that parties
struggle, that warriors fight and bleed. A year afterwards gallant heads
were falling, and Nithsdale in escape, and Derwentwater on the scaffold;
whilst the he