had never
known the luxuries or the amenities of my rank in life. To be attended
on by servants I had only been accustomed to in inns. My toilet had long
been military, to a moment, at the note of a bugle, too often at a
ditch-side. And it need not be wondered at if I looked on my new valet
with a certain diffidence. But I remembered that if he was my first
experience of a valet, I was his first trial as a master. Cheered by
which consideration, I demanded my bath in a style of good assurance.
There was a bath-room contiguous; in an incredibly short space of time
the hot water was ready; and soon after, arrayed in a shawl
dressing-gown and in a luxury of contentment and comfort, I was reclined
in an easy-chair before the mirror, while Rowley, with a mixture of
pride and anxiety which I could well understand, laid out his razors.

"Hey, Rowley?" I asked, not quite resigned to go under fire with such an
inexperienced commander. "It's all right, is it? You feel pretty sure of
your weapons?"

"Yes, my lord," he replied. "It's all right, I assure your lordship."

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Rowley, but for the sake of shortness, would you
mind not belording me in private?" said I. "It will do very well if you
call me Mr. Anne. It is the way of my country, as I dare say you know."

Mr. Rowley looked blank.

"But you're just as much a Viscount as Mr. Powl's, are you not?" he
said.

"As Mr. Powl's Viscount?" said I, laughing. "O, keep your mind easy, Mr.
Rowley's is every bit as good. Only, you see, as I am of the younger
line, I bear my Christian name along with the title. Alain is the
_Viscount_; I am the _Viscount Anne_. And in giving me the name of Mr.
Anne, I assure you you will be quite regular."

"Yes, Mr. Anne," said the docile youth. "But about the shaving, sir, you
need be under no alarm. Mr. Powl says I 'ave excellent dispositions."

"Mr. Powl?" said I. "That doesn't seem to me very like a French name."

"No, sir, indeed, my lord," said he, with a burst of confidence. "No,
indeed, Mr. Anne, and it do not surely. I should say now, it was more
like Mr. Pole."

"And Mr. Powl is the Viscount's man?"

"Yes, Mr. Anne," said he. "He 'ave a hard billet, he do. The Viscount is
a very particular gentleman. I don't think as you'll be, Mr. Anne?" he
added, with a confidential smile in the mirror.

He was about sixteen, well set up, with a pleasant, merry, freckled
face, and a pair of dancing eyes. There was an air at