irst Gentleman of Europe."

"That sounds sweet gossip," said Lawless, with a smile; "we're waiting."

Adderley continued: "John York was an honest man, of wholesome sport,
jovial, and never shirking with the wine, commendable in his appetite,
of rollicking soul and proud temper, and a gay dog altogether--gay, but
to be trusted, too, for he had a royal heart. In the coltish days of the
Prince Regent he was a boon comrade, but never did he stoop to flattery,
nor would he hedge when truth should be spoken, as ofttimes it was
needed with the royal blade, for at times he would forget that a prince
was yet a man, topped with the accident of a crown. Never prince had
truer friend, and so in his best hours he thought, himself, and if he
ever was just and showed his better part, it was to the bold country
gentleman who never minced praise or blame, but said his say and devil
take the end of it. In truth, the Prince was wilful, and once he did a
thing which might have given a twist to the fate of England. Hot for the
love of women, and with some dash of real romance in him too, else even
as a prince he might have had shallower love and service,--he called
John York one day and said:

"'To-night at seven, Squire John, you'll stand with me while I put
the seal on the Gates of Eden;' and, when the other did not guess his
import, added: 'Sir Mark Selby is your neighbour--his daughter's for
my arms to-night. You know her, handsome Sally Selby--she's for your
prince, for good or ill.'

"John York did not understand at first, for he could not think the
Prince had anything in mind but some hot escapade of love. When Mistress
Selby's name was mentioned his heart stood still, for she had been
his choice, the dear apple of his eye, since she had bloomed towards
womanhood. He had set all his hopes upon her, tarrying till she should
have seen some little life before he asked her for his wife. He had
her father's Godspeed to his wooing, for he was a man whom all men knew
honest and generous as the sun, and only choleric with the mean thing.
She, also, had given him good cause to think that he should one day take
her to his home, a loved and honoured wife. His impulse, when her name
passed the Prince's lips, was to draw his sword, for he would have
called an emperor to account; but presently he saw the real meaning of
the speech: that the Prince would marry her that night."

Here the story-teller paused again, and Pierre said softly, inquir