“Your Grace?”

“Do you think,” said the Duke, with a faint, rueful smile, “you can contrive to leave the house without Nettlebed’s seeing you, or Borrowdale, or—or anyone?”

“Certainly, your Grace,” said Francis woodenly.

“Thank you!” said the Duke, with real gratitude.

He would have been surprised had he been privileged to read the thoughts in his footman’s head. This impassive individual had not been a year in the employment of the gentlest-mannered master he had ever served without developing a lively sympathy for him. It was his opinion, freely expressed to his intimates over a heavy-wet, that there was never a lad so put-upon as the little Duke, and that it fair made a man’s blood boil to hear old Gundiguts and Muffin-face a-worriting him, not to mention my Lord Stiff-Rump, treating the lad to enough cross-and-jostle work to drive him into Bedlam. So far from not caring a fig for what became of the Duke, he was extremely curious to know what mischief he was up to, for mischief he would go bail it was. It would be a rare treat to slumguzzle Gundiguts and Muffin-face, and he was only sorry that his training forbade him to offer his master any further, assistance he might need in hoodwinking them and all the rest of the household, rump and stump.

The Duke drew his watch out, and glanced at it apprehensively. The menace of Captain Belper loomed large. He dived into his hanging-wardrobe, found a long, drab-coloured driving-coat with several shoulder-capes, a high collar, and large mother-of-pearl buttons; and a high-crowned beaver hat. He thought that he might perhaps be glad of a muffler, so he searched for that too. He could not think of anything else that he might need, so having assured himself that the visiting-card he had wrested from his unwilling cousin Matthew was safely tucked into hispocket-book, he left his room, and walked sedately down the great staircase.

The porter, who was sitting in a large leather chair by the front door, got up as soon as he saw him and told him that a package had just been delivered at the house from Joseph Manton’s. This instantly put the Duke in mind of the absolute necessity of taking a good pair of pistols with him upon his hazardous adventure. In spite of the danger of being caught by Captain Belper, he was quite unable to resist the temptation of carrying Manton’s package into the library, and unwrapping his purchase. The pistols, a really beautiful pair, lay snugly in their leather case, looking very slender and wicked. The Duke lifted one from its velvet bed, and tested its balance lovingly. No one could expect him to leave such peerless acquisitions behind! He slid the case into his capacious pocket, and the ball and powder thoughtfully provided by Mr. Manton in another pocket, telling himself that Baldock would be the very place for a little practice.

He went out into the hall again to find that Borrowdale had sailed into it from his quarters at the back of the house, attended rather regally by two footmen. Borrowdale wished to know if his Grace would be dining at home, and—with a glance at his Grace’s top-boots—whether his Grace desired his horse to be brought round.

“No,” said the Duke jauntily. “No, thank you, Borrowdale. I do not desire anything at all. And if Captain Belper should call—you do not know when I shall be returning.”

“Very good, your Grace,” bowed Borrowdale. “And when does your Grace expect to return?”

The Duke smiled at him. “But if you knew that you would not be able to tell Captain Belper that you did not, would you?” he said gently.

Before Borrowdale had recovered from his surprise sufficiently to disabuse his master’s mind of its curious misapprehension, the Duke had left the house.

His first objective was the General Post Office in Lombard Street. He drove to the City in a hackney carriage, which was an adventure in itself, since he had never ridden in one before, but a disappointment awaited him at the Post Office, where he discovered that as the mails all left London overnight he must he prepared to leave town at half-past eight that evening if he wished to avail himself of their services. A burly citizen in a low-crowned hat took pity on his inexperience, and directed him to a stage coach office, at the Saracen’s Head in Aldgate High Street. He seemed amused when the Duke, thanking him, asked the way to Aldgate High Street, said that he was a regular Johnny Raw, and begged him not to let himself be smoked by any fly-coves whom he might meet.

The Saracen’s Head was a big, busy hostelry, with two tiers of galleries running round a paved courtyard. Even at eleven o’clock in the morning, with most of the outgoing coaches departed long since, it was the scene of considerable activity, and quite a number of persons were waiting in the coach-office to book places on one or other of the many coaches which had their headquarters at the Saracen’s Head. The Duke, when it came to his turn, was successful in obtaining the box-seat on the Highflyer, which was due to leave London at eight in the morning, on its long journey to Edinburgh, and would arrive at Baldock at about noon. He then engaged a room at the inn for one night, and, evading the urgent entreaties of a lady who held a bunch of watercress under his nose, and refusing the offer of a one-legged man to sell him a doormat, he set off to look for a shop where he could buy a valise.

This was soon accomplished, and having arranged for the bag to be delivered at Captain Ware’s chambers, the Duke was able to turn his attention to such minor matters as the purchasing of soap, and tooth-powder, and a razor. He was directed to Bedford House, where he was most surprised to find for what a small sum he could buy hair-brushes, and combs, and other such articles. In the end, he made so many small purchases that he was obliged once more to make use of his cousin’s chambers.

It was just before eight, having whiled away the afternoon as best he could, that he entered the precincts of Albany. As he strolled up the Rope-Walk, an acquaintance who was sallying forth in evening attire, levelled a quizzing-glass at his top-boots, and said: “Just arrived from the Country, I see, Duke! I did not know you were expected in town. Are you on your way to your cousin? You will find him at home: I saw him come in above an hour ago/’

“I am dining with him,” the Duke replied.

“Well, I shall see you at White’s tomorrow, I daresay.”

The Duke agreed to this somewhat mendaciously, and passed on.

When he was admitted into Captain Ware’s chambers, his cousin met him in the hall with a ribald demand to know whether he took his lodging for a receiving office.

The Duke smiled up at him engagingly. “Oh, I could think of nowhere else to have them sent!” he said. “You can have no notion how busy I have been!”

“But, Adolphus, has it come to this, that you are obliged to fetch your linen home from the washerwoman?” asked Gideon, pointing to the unwieldy bundle on the floor.

“So Francis contrived to smuggle it away! Good!” said the Duke, casting off his greatcoat. “Gideon, I have slipped my leash!”

“Capital!” approved his cousin. “Come and tell me the whole!”

The Duke followed him into his sitting-room, but said: “Well, no! I think I will not, if you do not mind it very much!”

“Then tell me nothing at all,” said Gideon, handing him a glass of sherry. “Not, believe me, Adolphus, that I would cast the least rub in your way!”

The Duke, with the nature of his adventure in mind, was not so sure of this. His big cousin could be depended upon to aid and abet him in kicking over his irksome traces, but let him catch but one whiff of Mr. Liversedge and his demands and he would without any doubt at all cast very much more than a rub in the way. So he smiled again, and sipped his sherry.

Gideon, who knew that sweet, abstracted smile, said accusingly: “Adolphus, you are brewing mischief!”

“Oh, no!” said Gilly. “I am just very tired of being myself, and I am going to take your advice, and try how I like being plain Mr. Dash. To be Duke of Sale is a dead bore!”

“I am aware. Did I so advise you? My father will want my head on a charger!”

“Last night. I have made a start already, for I have been doing all manner of things that I never did before. A man I met in the City took me for a Johnny Raw. And I think he was right: I am shockingly green! But I shall soon learn. I am going out of town, you know.”

“So I had supposed. Does that infamous bundle contain your raiment?”

“Yes, and such a work as I had to get it away without Nettlebed’s seeing it! Gideon, I think perhaps Nettlebed may seek me here. Do, pray, assure him that I am safe, and keep them all from flying into some absurd pucker!”

“You may rely on me, Adolphus,—if not to do quite what you would wish—at least to afford your retinue no clue whatsoever to your whereabouts. In fact, I shall deny all knowledge of you.”

“Poor Nettlebed!” said Gilly. “I fear he will be in despair. I offended him this morning, and left him quite out of charity with me. I suppose it is a great deal too bad of me to put him in a fright, but I can’t bear it any longer, Gideon! They treat me as though I were a child, or an imbecile! I cannot move a step without one or other of them running to call my carriage, or hand me my gloves, or ask me when I mean to return! Yes, yes, I know what you will say! But I cannot do it! I have made the attempt, but the devil of it is I can’t but remember how Borrowdale used to give me sugar-plums when I was in disgrace, and how dear, good Chigwell told my uncle it was he who broke the window in the Red Drawing-room, and how Nettlebed has nursed me whenever I have been ill—oh, and a hundred other things of the kind!”