CHAPTER XV

PROLOGUE

Clad in his customary black and silver, with raven hair unpowdered and

elaborately dressed, diamonds on his fingers and in his cravat, Hugh

Tracy Clare Belmanoir, Duke of Andover, sat at the escritoire in the

library of his town house, writing.

He wore no rouge on his face, the almost unnatural pallor of which

seemed designedly enhanced by a patch set beneath his right eye. Brows

and lashes were black, the former slanting slightly up at the corners,

but his narrow, heavy-lidded eyes were green and strangely piercing. The

thin lips curled a little, sneering, as one dead-white hand travelled to

and fro across the paper.

... but it seems that the Fair Lady has a Brother, who, finding Me

Enamoured, threw down the Gauntlet. I soundly whipt the presumptuous

Child, and so the Affair ends. Now, as you, My dear Frank, also took

some Interest in the Lady, I write for the Express Purpose of informing

You that at my Hands she has received no Hurt, nor is not like to. This

I in part tell You that You shall not imagine Yr self in Honor bound

again to call Me out, which Purpose, an I mistake not, I yesterday read

in Yr Eyes. I should be Exceeding loth to meet You in a Second Time,

when I should consider it my Duty to teach You an even severer Lesson

than Before. This I am not Wishful of doing for the Liking I bear You.

"So in all Friendship believe me, Frank,

"Your most Obedient, Humble

"DEVIL."

His Grace of Andover paused, pen held in mid-air. A mocking smile dawned

in his eyes, and he wrote again.

"In the event of any Desire on Yr Part to hazard Yr Luck with my late

Paramour, Permit Me to warn You 'gainst the Bantam Brother, who is in

Very Truth a Fire-Eater, and would wish to make of You, as of Me, one

Mouthfull. I shall hope to see You at the Queensberry Rout on Thursday,

when You may Once More strive to direct mine Erring Footsteps on to the

Thorny Path of Virtue."

His Grace read the postscript through with another satisfied, sardonic

smile. Then he folded the letter, and affixing a wafer, peremptorily

struck the hand-bell at his side.

And the Honourable Frank Fortescue, reading the postscript half-an-hour

later, smiled too, but differently. Also he sighed and put the letter

into the fire.

"And so ends another _affaire_. ... I wonder if you'll go insolently to

the very end?" he said softly, watching the paper shrivel and flare up.

"I would to God you might fall honestly in love--and that the lady might

save you from yourself--my poor Devil!"