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42 gait. I lit another pipe and yawned. I hoped the duke would engage this newcomer and let me go about my business; and I fancied that he would, for the fellow looked dapper, sharp, and handy. And the duchess? I was so disturbed to find myself disturbed at the thought of the duchess that I exclaimed:

“By Jove, I’d better go! By Jove, I had!”

A wishing-cap, or rather a hoping-cap—for if a man who is no philosopher may have an opinion, we do not always wish and hope for the same thing—could have done no more for me than the chance of Fate; for at the moment the duke’s voice called “Sampson!” loudly from the house. I ran in obedience to his summons. He stood in the porch with the little stranger by him; and the stranger wore a deferential, but extremely well-satisfied smile.

“Here, you,” said the duke to me, “you can make yourself scarce as soon as you like. I’ve got a better servant, aye, and a sober one. There’s ten francs for you. Now be off!”

I felt it incumbent on me to appear a little aggrieved:

“Am I to go to-night?” I asked. “Where can I get to to-night, my lord?”

“What’s that to me? I dare say if you stand old Jean a franc, he’ll give you a lift to the nearest inn. Tell him he may take a farm-horse.”

Really the duke was treating me with quite as much civility as I have seen many of my friends extend to their servants. I had nothing to complain of. I bowed, and was about to turn