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Updated: September 21, 2025
What was it to me that he sat there, if honour and the Kingdom's greatness and all that makes a crown worth the wearing must go, in order to his sitting there? There rose in me at once an inclination towards him and a loathing for the gospel that he preached; the last was stronger and, with a bow, I said: "Yes, Sir, I am of M. de Fontelles' mind." He heard me, lying back in his chair.
Yet I have held a pistol to his head," said I, not, I confess, without natural pride. Fontelles started, then laughed scornfully. "When he and Mistress Quinton and I were in a boat together," I pursued. "The quarrel then was which of us should escort the lady, he or I, and whether to Calais or to England. And although I should have been her husband had we gone to Calais, yet I brought her here."
A French gentleman, by name M. de Fontelles, will be here to-morrow; he carries your father's letter and is sent to bring you to Dover." "My father bids me come?" she cried. "His letter will convey the request," answered Carford. "Then I will go," said she. "I can't come to harm with him, and when I have told him all, he won't allow me to go to France."
"Il vient," I repeated, thinking now that all the three had run mad. Carford screened his mouth with his hand and whispered in the Duke's ear. The Duke nodded and made some answer. Both seemed infinitely stirred and interested. M. de Fontelles had stood in sullen silence by the table while I told the story of our quarrel; now his eyes were fixed intently on the Duke's face.
"Nor, it may be, than one who is born," said the Vicar, sighing. "Nor even than one who dies," hazarded the Frenchman. "Sir, sir, let us not be irreligious," implored the Vicar, smiling. The quarrel was most certainly over. Fontelles sat down by the Vicar's side. "Yet, sir," said he, "God made the world." "It is full as good a world as we deserve," said the Vicar.
"But, pardon me, I do not fear the danger." "Neither danger nor disgrace?" she sneered. Fontelles flushed. "A lady, madame, may say what she pleases," he remarked with a bow. "Oh, enough of pretences," she cried. "Shall we speak openly?" "With all my heart, madame," said he, lost between anger and bewilderment.
"If your Grace pleases. To say the truth, I don't care a fig for his fierceness. But the explanation, sir?" "Why, to make all level," answered the Duke, smiling and fixing his gaze upon the Frenchman, "M. de Fontelles will give his explanation to me." "I cry agreed, your Grace!" said I. "Come, let him give it." "To me, Mr Dale, not to you," smiled the Duke.
"But why," said I, "that simple phrase worked such strange agitation in the gentleman, your Grace's wisdom may discover. I am at a loss." Still Carford whispered, and presently the Duke said, "Come, gentlemen, you've fallen into a foolish quarrel where no quarrel need have come. Pray be friends again." M. de Fontelles drew himself up stiffly.
I bowed to M. de Fontelles with a merry smile; I could not conceal my amusement and did not care how it might puzzle him. I strode out of the kitchen and made my way up the stairs. I had to pass the Duke's apartment. The light still burned there, and he and Carford were sitting at the table. I put my head in. "If your Grace has no need of me, I'll seek my bed," said I, mustering a yawn.
"A gentleman, madame, should grow more, not less, assiduous when he is so happy as to have put a lady under obligation." He had said enough, and restrained himself from a further attack. "What will you do?" he went on. "Alas, what can I do?" Then she cried, "This M. de Fontelles can't carry me off against my will." "He has the King's commands," said Carford. "Who will resist him?"
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