icion of it.
One circumstance is noteworthy.

It happened that at six leagues from the anchorage of the naval station
commanded by Lord David, a captain called Halyburton broke through the
French fleet. The Earl of Pembroke, President of the Council, proposed
that this Captain Halyburton should be made vice-admiral. Anne struck
out Halyburton's name, and put Lord David Dirry-Moir's in its place,
that he might, when no longer a peer, have the satisfaction of being a
vice-admiral.

Anne was well pleased. A hideous husband for her sister, and a fine step
for Lord David. Mischief and kindness combined.

Her Majesty was going to enjoy a comedy. Besides, she argued to herself
that she was repairing an abuse of power committed by her august father.
She was reinstating a member of the peerage. She was acting like a
great queen; she was protecting innocence according to the will of God
that Providence in its holy and impenetrable ways, etc., etc. It is very
sweet to do a just action which is disagreeable to those whom we do not
like.

To know that the future husband of her sister was deformed, sufficed the
queen. In what manner Gwynplaine was deformed, and by what kind of
ugliness, Barkilphedro had not communicated to the queen, and Anne had
not deigned to inquire. She was proudly and royally disdainful. Besides,
what could it matter? The House of Lords could not but be grateful. The
Lord Chancellor, its oracle, had approved. To restore a peer is to
restore the peerage. Royalty on this occasion had shown itself a good
and scrupulous guardian of the privileges of the peerage. Whatever might
be the face of the new lord, a face cannot be urged in objection to a
right. Anne said all this to herself, or something like it, and went
straight to her object, an object at once grand, womanlike, and
regal--namely, to give herself a pleasure.

The queen was then at Windsor--a circumstance which placed a certain
distance between the intrigues of the court and the public. Only such
persons as were absolutely necessary to the plan were in the secret of
what was taking place. As to Barkilphedro, he was joyful--a circumstance
which gave a lugubrious expression to his face. If there be one thing in
the world which can be more hideous than another, 'tis joy.

He had had the delight of being the first to taste the contents of
Hardquanonne's flask. He seemed but little surprised, for astonishment
is the attribute of a little mind. Besides, wa