an
ante-room, and here his servants received their orders.

The "Prince of Silence" rarely spoke to his attendants; he wrote down on
paper what he required and placed it in the letter-box of the door
opening into the ante-room. Then he rang a bell, when a servant would
come and read what he had written and carry out the order accordingly.

The Duke's bedstead was an immense square erection, constructed in an
extraordinary manner. There were large doors to it, so arranged that
when folded it was impossible to know whether the bed was occupied by
its owner.

He was a lonely traveller, and even when he went to Paris would have no
companion with him. His arrangements were made by an _avant courier_,
and when it became known that he had arrived in the gay city, the
English aristocracy paid formal visits to him.

These attentions were too much for his habit of loneliness, and he
vanished to St. Germains. A few weeks' stay here was enough for him, and
he came back to Paris, not lingering more than a couple of days, and
then proceeded by stages to Calais and on to London.

One of the best authenticated stories of the fifth Duke relates to his
habit of riding alone in a carriage specially constructed to secure
privacy. As was natural the more it became known that he wanted to
escape observation the more was curiosity aroused to see him, so that a
considerable part of his life was spent in adopting stratagems to
prevent sight-seers from catching a glimpse of the aristocratic enigma.

The carriage was so made that when the doors were closed no one could
see into it, though there were spy-holes arranged that the Duke could
look out on all sides and not be observed.

One day the Duke had sent his usual written order for his carriage to
proceed by road to London.

The postillions started quite oblivious that they had his Grace with
them in his mysteriously-constructed vehicle.

It was a long journey, and as they passed stage after stage, their
delays for refreshments became longer and their stoppages more frequent.

They had just pulled up at a country inn when they were horrified to
hear a sepulchral voice from the hearse-like chariot shouting,

"What the devil are you stopping for?"

These few words were enough. They came from the voice of the Duke whom
they saw not, but recognised by his tones from his tomb on wheels.

The postillions sprang upon the horses and tarried not till they had
arrived before the portico o