"Praise God, no!" observed the other, fervently.
And Ormskirk nodded his comprehension. "Monsieur de Soyecourt, then. Of
course, we heard of your disappearance, I have been expecting something of
the sort for years. And,--frankly, politics are often a nuisance, as both
Gaston and myself will willingly attest,--especially," he added, with a
grimace, "since war between France and England became inevitable through
the late happenings in India and Nova Scotia, and both our wives flatly
declined to let either of us take part therein,--for fear we might catch
our death of cold by sleeping in those draughty tents. Faith, you have
descended, sir, like an agreeable meteor, upon two of the most scandalously
henpecked husbands in all the universe. In fact, you will not find a
gentleman at Ingilby--save Mr. Erwyn, perhaps--but is an abject slave to
his wife, and in consequence most abjectly content."
"You have guests, then?" said de Soyecourt. "_Ma foi_, it is unfortunate. I
but desired to confer with Gaston concerning the disposal of Beaujolais and
my other properties in France since I find that the sensation of hunger,
while undoubtedly novel, is, when too long continued, apt to grow tiresome.
I would not willingly intrude, however--"
"Were it not for the fact that you are wealthy, and yet, so long as you
preserve your incognito, and remain legally dead, you cannot touch a penny
of your fortune! The situation is droll. We must arrange it. Meanwhile
you are my guest, and I can assure you that at Ingilby you will be to all
Monsieur de Soyecourt, no more and no less. Now let us see what can be done
about clothing Monsieur de Soyecourt for dinner--"
"But I could not consider--" Monsieur de Soyecourt protested.
"I must venture to remind you," the Duke retorted, "that dinner is almost
ready, and that Claire is the sort of housewife who would more readily
condone fratricide or arson than cold soup."
"It is odd," little de Soyecourt said, with complete irrelevance, "that in
the end I should get aid of you and of Gaston. And it is odd you should be
forgiving my bungling attempts at crime, so lightly--"
Ormskirk considered, a new gravity in his plump face. "Faith, but we find
it more salutary, in looking back, to consider some peccadilloes of our
own. And we bear no malice, Gaston and I,--largely, I suppose, because
contentment is a great encourager of all the virtues. Then, too, we
remember that to each of us, at the eleventh hour, and through no merit of
his own, was given the one thing worth while in life. We did not merit it;
few of us merit anything, for few of us are at bottom either very good or
very bad. Nay, my friend, for the most part we are blessed or damned as
Fate elects, and hence her favorites may not in reason contemn her victims.
For myself, I observe the king upon his throne and the thief upon his
coffin, in passage for the gallows; and I pilfer my phrase and I apply it
to either spectacle: _There, but for the will of God, sits John Bulmer_. I
may not understand, I may not question; I can but accept. Now, then, let us
prepare for dinner" he ended, in quite another tone.
De Soyecourt yielded. He was shown to his rooms, and Ormskirk rang for
Damiens, whom the Duke was sending into France to attend to a rather
important assassination.