to pay; my brother fell desperately in
love with Mademoiselle Capello at first sight."

"That is nothing," said I, unfeelingly. "You are so much alike it can
matter but little to her which one she may love."

"Out, rascal! But--but--mademoiselle was much kinder to me than to
Regnard. Indeed, she was not kind at all to him."

"Oh, poor brother! How that must have pained you!"

"No! no! My brother and I are nearer to each other than most brothers,
but when a young lady is concerned we are as man to man. So I was
rather pleased not to have my brother for a rival."

"He will be in Paris while you are away, and may make his hay in your
absence."

Gaston's face was flooded with laughter and color as he replied:

"Well--under the rose, remember--Mademoiselle Capello will not be in
Paris long. She confided to me that her aunt was setting out upon her
travels shortly, meaning to go as far north as Russia. Then, on their
return, they will stop in Brabant, probably until mademoiselle attains
her majority. It will go hard with me if I am not at my own house for
a little while at least, while Mademoiselle Capello is my neighbor.
And Babache!" he rode closer and whispered in my ear: "She told me
last night she would be watching on a certain balcony when we passed,
and I asked her what color of gown she would wear, because I should
wear a flower of that color, and she said crimson, and here I have a
crimson rose in my helmet."

His boyish eyes were radiant with joy and triumph. His was a spirit
daring in love as in war, and surely Francezka Capello had the spirit
of ten good men in her young soul. I began to wonder what two such
eaglets would contrive between them.

CHAPTER VII

AN UGLY DUCHESS

The town of Mitau is an ugly place, built near a dull and sluggish
river, rudely spanned by a bridge of boats at the market-place. The
palace, however, is a fine building, and there dwelt the ugly Duchess
Anna Iwanowna--bad luck forever to her!--and there could have dwelt
Count Saxe if he would but have obliged the duchess by marrying her.
But he could not swallow the pill.

We were in Mitau from June, 1726, when those rascally Courlanders
pretended they meant to make Count Saxe Duke of Courland, until
August, 1727, when we made our way out of the place--only twenty of
us; and not without trouble, either, of which I shall speak
presently.

To this rag of a remnant of twenty was Count Saxe's following reduced.
It is tr