ally himself with the Royalists;
though, had his life been in danger, he still would have spoken the
truth. So he had been human enough to try and force open the door
of mystery by a biting suggestion; for he had a feeling that in the
presence of the mysterious kinsman, Philip d'Avranche, lay the cause of
the Duke's resistance to his prayer. Who was this Philip d'Avranche? At
the moment it seemed absurd to him that his mind should travel back to
the Isle of Jersey.
The fury of the Duke was about to break forth, when the door of the
chamber opened and Philip stepped inside. The silence holding two men
now held three, and a curious, cold astonishment possessed the
two younger. The Duke was too blind with anger to see the start
of recognition his visitors gave at sight of each other, and by a
concurrence of feeling neither Detricand nor Philip gave sign of
acquaintance. Wariness was Philip's cue, wondering caution Detricand's
attitude.
The Duke spoke first. Turning from Philip, he said to Detricand with
malicious triumph:
"It will disconcert your pious mind to know I have yet one kinsman who
counts it no shame to inherit Bercy. Monsieur le comte, I give you here
the honour to know Captain Philip d'Avranche."
Something of Detricand's old buoyant self came back to him. His face
flushed with sudden desire to laugh, then it paled in dumb astonishment.
So this man, Philip d'Avranche, was to be set against him even in the
heritage of his family, as for one hour in a Jersey kitchen they had
been bitter opposites. For the heritage of the Houses of Vaufontaine
and Bercy he cared little--he had deeper ambitions; but this adventuring
sailor roused in him again the private grudge he had once begged him to
remember. Recovering himself, he answered meaningly, bowing low:
"The honour is memorable--and monstrous." Philip set his teeth, but
replied: "I am overwhelmed to meet one whose reputation is known--in
every taproom."
Neither had chance to say more, for the Duke, though not conceiving the
cause or meaning of the biting words, felt the contemptuous suggestion
in Detricand's voice, and burst out in anger:
"Go tell the prince of Vaufontaine that the succession is assured to my
house. Monsieur my cousin, Captain Philip d'Avranche, is now my adopted
son; a wife is chosen for him, and soon, monsieur le comte, there will
be still another successor to the title."
"The Duc de Bercy should add inspired domestic prophecy to th
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