Castellane, and says he, 'Officer,' says he, 'may I inquire what for
you're apprehending this gentleman and lady?' says he. With that me
friend hands him out some strong language for buttin' in, and Charley is
so much shocked at the insult to himself and the lady that he steps in
before the Sergeant and offers to go bond for Douglas, just to go the
cop one better, givin' the Sergeant the same line of drip that he has
been handin' out to us in the Tombs, about his bein' the son of Oscar,
the Duc de Nevers, and related to all the crowned heads in Europe. Then
he ups and signs the bail bond for a house and lot that he has never
seen in his life. And here he is up agin it. An' it's a good stiff one
His Honor will be handin' out to him to my way of thinkin', for these
high fallutin' foreigners has got to be put a stop to, and Charley
Nevers is a good one to begin on."
"I think you're wrong, O'Toole," said I. "But we can tell better later
on."
All that day my thoughts kept reverting to the Duc de Nevers. One thing
was more than certain and that was that of all the various personages
whom I had met during my journey through the world none was more fitted
to be a duke than he. I was obliged to confess that during my hour's
interview I had felt myself to be in the company of a superior being,
one of different clay from that of which I was composed, a man of better
brain, and better education, vastly more rounded and experienced, a
cultivated citizen of the world, who would be at home in any company no
matter how distinguished and who would rise to any emergency. As I ate
my dinner at the club the name De Nevers played mistily in the recesses
of my memory. _De Nevers_! Surely there was something historic about it,
some flavor of the days of kings and courtiers. Smoking my cigar in the
library I fell into a reverie in which the Tombs, with its towers and
grated windows, figured as a gray chateau of old Tourraine, and Charles
Julius Francis in hunting costume as a mediaeval monseigneur with a
hooded falcon on his wrist. I awoke to find directly in my line of
vision upon the shelf of the alcove in front of me the solid phalanx of
the ten volumes of Larousse's "Grand Dictionaire Universe du XIX
Siecle," and I reached forward and pulled down the letter "N."
"Nevers"--there it was--"Capitol of the Department of Nievre. Ducal
palace built in 1475. Charles III de Gonzagne, petit-fils de Charles
II," had sold the duchy of Nevers and h
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