ll suspect that you aren't really me?"

"Does any one up at Hechnahoul know you?"

"No."

"And no one there knows me. They will never suspect for an instant."

His lordship assumed a look that would have been serious, almost
impressive, had he first removed his eye-glass. Evidently some weighty
consideration had occurred to him.

"You are an awfully clever chap, Essington," he said, "and
deuced superior to most fellows, and--er--all that kind of thing.
But--well--you don't mind my saying it?"

"My morals? My appearance? Say anything you like, my dear fellow."

"It's only this, that noblesse oblige, and that kind of thing, you
know."

"I am afraid I don't quite follow."

"Well, I mean that you aren't a nobleman, and do you think you could
carry things off like a--ah--like a Tulliwuddle?"

Essington remained entirely serious.

"I shall have at my elbow an adviser whose knowledge of the highest
society in Europe is, without exaggeration, unequalled. Your perfectly
natural doubts will be laid at rest when I tell you that I hope to be
accompanied by the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg."

The Baron could no longer contain himself.

"Himmel! Hurray! My dear friend, I vill go mit you to hell!"

"That's very good of you," said Essington, "but you mistake my present
destination. I merely wish your company as far as the Castle of
Hechnahoul."

"I gom mit so moch pleasure zat I cannot eggspress! Tollyvoddle, be no
longer afraid. I have helped to write a book on ze noble families
of Germany--zat is to say, I have contributed my portrait and some
anecdote. Our dear friend shall make no mistakes!"

By this guarantee Lord Tulliwuddle's last doubts were completely set
at rest. His spirits rose as he perceived how happily this easy avenue
would lead him out of all his troubles. He insisted on calling for
wine and pledging success to the adventure with the most resolute and
confident air, and nothing but a few details remained now to be settled.
These were chiefly with regard to the precise limits up to which the
duplicate Lord Tulliwuddle might advance his conquering arms.

"You won't formally propose, will you?" said the first edition of that
peer.

"Certainly not, if you prefer to negotiate the surrender yourself," the
later impression assured him.

"And you mustn't--well--er----"

"I shall touch nothing."

"A girl might get carried away by you," said the original peer a trifle
doubtfully.

"The Baron is the