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When the stately junket was concluded, it was the pleasure of M. de Chateaurien to form one of the escort of Lady Mary's carriage for the return. As they took the road, Sir Hugh Guilford and Mr. Bantison, engaging in indistinct but vigorous remonstrance with Mr. Molyneux over some matter, fell fifty or more paces behind, where they continued to ride, keeping up their argument.
Molyneux heaved a great sigh of relief. "Shall I " He turned to M. Beaucaire. The young man laughed, and said: "Tell him come here at once. "Impudent to the last!" cried Bantison, as Molyneux hurried from the room. "Now you goin' to see M. Beaucaire's master," said Beaucaire to Lady Mary. "'Tis true what I say, the other night. I cross from Prance in his suite; my passport say as his barber.
There was no surprise when the young foreigner fell naturally into the long train of followers of the beautiful Lady Mary Carlisle, nor was there great astonishment that he should obtain marked favor in her eyes, shown so plainly that my Lord Townbrake, Sir Hugh Guilford, and the rich Squire Bantison, all of whom had followed her through three seasons, swore with rage, and his Grace of Winterset stalked from her aunt's house with black brows.
"Deny to a such judge?" "Ha!" said Bantison. "What more do you want, Molyneux? Fellow, do you deny that you came to London in the ambassador's suite?" "No, I do not deny." "He admits it! Didn't you come as his barber?" "Yes, my frien', as his barber." Lady Mary cried out faintly, and, shuddering, put both hands over her eyes. "I'm sorry," said Molyneux. "You fight like a gentleman."
Molyneux was in his company, and said he would be answerable for him. Consternation was so plain on the Beau's trained face that the Duke leaned toward him anxiously. "The villain's in, and Molyneux hath gone mad!" Mr. Bantison, who had been fiercely elbowing his way toward them, joined heads with them.
Mademoiselle," he bowed to Lady Mary, "I have the honor to reques' you leave the room. You shall miss no details if these frien's of yours kill me, on the honor of a French gentleman." "A French what?" laughed Bantison. "Do you dare keep up the pretense?" cried Lord Town brake. "Know, you villain barber, that your master, the Marquis de Mirepoix, is in the next room."
"You mean it is false?" she cried breathlessly. "'Od's blood, is she not convinced?" broke out Mr. Bantison. "Fellow, were you not the ambassador's barber?" "It is all false?" she whispered. "The mos' fine art, mademoiselle. How long you think it take M. de Winterset to learn that speech after he write it out? It is a mix of what is true and the mos' chaste art.
But, pardon," he mocked, "that remind' me. Francois, return to Mr. Bantison and these gentlemen their weapons." "Will you answer a question?" said Molyneux mildly. "Oh, with pleasure, monsieur." "Were you ever a barber?" "No, monsieur," laughed the young man. "Pah!" exclaimed Bantison. "Let me question him. Now, fellow, a confession may save you from jail. Do you deny you are Beaucaire?"
I should have cartels from the fathers, brothers, and lovers of every wench and madam in the place, even I. You would be thrust from Lady Malbourne's door five minutes after you entered it." "No, no, no!" "Half the gentlemen in Bath have been here to play. They would know you, wouldn't they, fool? You've had thousands out of Bantison, Rakell, Guilford, and Townbrake.
Bantison, every one of them, in short, recognized him. In spite of his smooth face and his light hair, the adventurer Beaucaire was writ upon him amazing plain. Look at him, madam, if he will dare the inspection. You saw this Beaucaire well, the day of his expulsion from the rooms. Is not this he?" M. Beaucaire stepped close to her. Her pale face twitched. "Look!" he said.
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