known, she has thrown down the gauntlet to a set of human beasts of prey who are as determined as they are ferocious. England will not emerge victorious from this conflict, Monseigneur, if her sons do not realize that war is not mere sport and that victory can only be attained by the sacrifice of levity and of pleasure.’
He had dropped into French in response to His Highness’ remark, in order to express his thoughts more accurately. The Prince—a little bored no doubt–seemed disinclined to pursue the subject. Nevertheless, it seemed as if once again he made a decided effort not to show ill-humour. He even gave a knowing wink—a wink!–in the direction of his friend Blakeney and of Her Grace as if to beg them to set the ball of conversation rolling once more along a smoother—a less boring–path. He was obviously quite determined not to release M. de Kernogan from attendance near his royal person.
VI
As usual Sir Percy threw himself in the breach, filling the sudden pause with his infectious laugh:
‘La!’ he said gaily, ‘how beautifully M. le duc does talk. Ffoulkes,’ he added, addressing Sir Andrew, who was standing close by, ‘I’ll wager you ten pounds to a pinch of snuff that you couldn’t deliver yourself of such splendid sentiments, even in your own native lingo.’
‘I won’t take you, Blakeney,’ retorted Sir Andrew with a laugh, ‘I’m no good at peroration.’
‘You should hear our distinguished guest M. Martin-Roget on the same subject,’ continued Sir Percy with mock gravity. ‘By Gad! can’t he talk? I feel a d–d worm when he talks about our national levity, our insane worship of sport, our…our…M. le duc,’ he added with becoming seriousness and in atrocious French, ‘I appeal to you. Does not M. Martin-Roget talk beautifully?’
‘M. Martin-Roget,’ replied the duc gravely, ‘is a man of marvellous eloquence, fired by overwhelming patriotism. He is a man who must command respect wherever he goes.’
‘You have known him long, M. le duc?’ queried His Royal Highness graciously.
‘Indeed not very long, Monseigneur. He came over as an ιmigrι from Brest some three months ago, hidden in a smuggler’s ship. He had been denounced as an aristocrat who was furthering the cause of the royalists in Brittany by helping them plentifully with money, but he succeeded in escaping, not only with his life, but also with the bulk of his fortune.’
‘Ah! M. Martin-Roget is rich?’
‘He is sole owner of a rich banking business in Brest, Monseigneur, which has no important branch in America and correspondents all over Europe. Monseigneur the Bishop of Brest recommended him specially to my notice in a very warm letter of introduction, wherein he speaks of M. Martin-Roget as a gentleman of the highest patriotism and integrity. Were I not quite satisfied as to M. Martin-Roget’s antecedents and present connexions I would not have ventured to present him to your Highness.’
‘Nor would you have accepted him as a suitor for your daughter, M. le duc, c’est entendu!’ concluded His Highness urbanely. ‘M. Martin-Roget’s wealth will no doubt cover his lack of birth.’
‘There are plenty of high-born gentlemen devoted to the royalist cause, Monseigneur,’ rejoined the duc in his grave, formal manner. ‘But the most just and purest of causes must at times be helped with money. The Vendιens in Brittany, the Princes at Coblentz are all sorely in need of funds…’
‘And M. Martin-Roget son-in-law of M. le duc de Kernogan is more likely to feed those funds than M. Martin-Roget the plain business man who has no aristocratic connexions,’ concluded His Royal Highness dryly. ‘But even so, M. le duc,’ he added more gravely, ‘surely you cannot be so absolutely certain as you would wish that M. Martin-Roget’s antecedents are just as he has told you. Monseigneur the Bishop of Brest may have acted in perfect good faith…’
‘Monseigneur the Bishop of Brest, your
He had dropped into French in response to His Highness’ remark, in order to express his thoughts more accurately. The Prince—a little bored no doubt–seemed disinclined to pursue the subject. Nevertheless, it seemed as if once again he made a decided effort not to show ill-humour. He even gave a knowing wink—a wink!–in the direction of his friend Blakeney and of Her Grace as if to beg them to set the ball of conversation rolling once more along a smoother—a less boring–path. He was obviously quite determined not to release M. de Kernogan from attendance near his royal person.
VI
As usual Sir Percy threw himself in the breach, filling the sudden pause with his infectious laugh:
‘La!’ he said gaily, ‘how beautifully M. le duc does talk. Ffoulkes,’ he added, addressing Sir Andrew, who was standing close by, ‘I’ll wager you ten pounds to a pinch of snuff that you couldn’t deliver yourself of such splendid sentiments, even in your own native lingo.’
‘I won’t take you, Blakeney,’ retorted Sir Andrew with a laugh, ‘I’m no good at peroration.’
‘You should hear our distinguished guest M. Martin-Roget on the same subject,’ continued Sir Percy with mock gravity. ‘By Gad! can’t he talk? I feel a d–d worm when he talks about our national levity, our insane worship of sport, our…our…M. le duc,’ he added with becoming seriousness and in atrocious French, ‘I appeal to you. Does not M. Martin-Roget talk beautifully?’
‘M. Martin-Roget,’ replied the duc gravely, ‘is a man of marvellous eloquence, fired by overwhelming patriotism. He is a man who must command respect wherever he goes.’
‘You have known him long, M. le duc?’ queried His Royal Highness graciously.
‘Indeed not very long, Monseigneur. He came over as an ιmigrι from Brest some three months ago, hidden in a smuggler’s ship. He had been denounced as an aristocrat who was furthering the cause of the royalists in Brittany by helping them plentifully with money, but he succeeded in escaping, not only with his life, but also with the bulk of his fortune.’
‘Ah! M. Martin-Roget is rich?’
‘He is sole owner of a rich banking business in Brest, Monseigneur, which has no important branch in America and correspondents all over Europe. Monseigneur the Bishop of Brest recommended him specially to my notice in a very warm letter of introduction, wherein he speaks of M. Martin-Roget as a gentleman of the highest patriotism and integrity. Were I not quite satisfied as to M. Martin-Roget’s antecedents and present connexions I would not have ventured to present him to your Highness.’
‘Nor would you have accepted him as a suitor for your daughter, M. le duc, c’est entendu!’ concluded His Highness urbanely. ‘M. Martin-Roget’s wealth will no doubt cover his lack of birth.’
‘There are plenty of high-born gentlemen devoted to the royalist cause, Monseigneur,’ rejoined the duc in his grave, formal manner. ‘But the most just and purest of causes must at times be helped with money. The Vendιens in Brittany, the Princes at Coblentz are all sorely in need of funds…’
‘And M. Martin-Roget son-in-law of M. le duc de Kernogan is more likely to feed those funds than M. Martin-Roget the plain business man who has no aristocratic connexions,’ concluded His Royal Highness dryly. ‘But even so, M. le duc,’ he added more gravely, ‘surely you cannot be so absolutely certain as you would wish that M. Martin-Roget’s antecedents are just as he has told you. Monseigneur the Bishop of Brest may have acted in perfect good faith…’
‘Monseigneur the Bishop of Brest, your
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