tience. It is but
natural you should attemp' a little avengement for the rascal trap I
was such a wicked fellow as to set for you. I shall meet some strange
frien's of yours after to-night; not so? I must try to be not too much
frighten'." He looked at the Duke curiously. "You want to know why I
create this tragedy, why I am so unkind as to entrap monsieur?"

His Grace of Winterset replied with a chill glance; a pulse in the
nobleman's cheek beat less relentlessly; his eye raged not so bitterly;
the steady purple of his own color was returning; his voice was less
hoarse; he was regaining his habit. "'Tis ever the manner of the
vulgar," he observed, "to wish to be seen with people of fashion."

"Oh, no, no, no!" The Frenchman laughed. "'Tis not that. Am I not
already one of these 'men of fashion'? I lack only the reputation of
birth. Monsieur is goin' supply that. Ha, ha! I shall be noble from
to-night. 'Victor,' the artis', is condemn' to death; his throat shall
be cut with his own razor. 'M. Beaucaire--'" Here the young man sprang
to his feet, caught up the black wig, clapped into it a dice-box
from the table, and hurled it violently through the open door. "'M.
Beaucaire' shall be choke' with his own dice-box. Who is the Phoenix to
remain? What advantage have I not over other men of rank who are merely
born to it? I may choose my own. No! Choose for me, monsieur. Shall I
be chevalier, comte, vicomte, marquis, what? None. Out of compliment to
monsieur can I wish to be anything he is not? No, no! I shall be M.
le Duc, M. le Duc de--de Chateaurien. Ha, ha! You see? You are my
confrere."

M. Beaucaire trod a dainty step or two, waving his hand politely to the
Duke, as though in invitation to join the celebration of his rank.
The Englishman watched, his eye still and harsh, already gathering in
craftiness. Beaucaire stopped suddenly. "But how I forget my age! I am
twenty-three," he said, with a sigh. "I rejoice too much to be of the
quality. It has been too great for me, and I had always belief' myself
free of such ambition. I thought it was enough to behol' the opera
without wishing to sing; but no, England have teach' me I have those
vulgar desire'. Monsieur, I am goin' tell you a secret: the ladies of
your country are very diff'runt than ours. One may adore the demoiselle,
one must worship the lady of England. Our ladies have the--it is the
beauty of youth; yours remain comely at thirty. Ours are flowers, yours
are st