The honest nobleman could not tell why it was, but it was true, nevertheless.  He looked upon the Doctor more as an equal than Barker.  The Duke was a very great man in his own country, and it was singular indeed that he should find a man to his liking, a man who seemed of his own caste and calibre, in the simple privat-docent of a German university.  Perhaps Barker felt it too.  At all events, when the Duke sat himself down in Claudius’s room, after begging permission to ring for lights, and made himself most evidently at home, Mr. Barker felt that he was in the way; and so, promising to call on Claudius again in the morning, he departed.  Claudius stood by the mantelpiece while the servant lit the gas.

“I am very glad to see you,” he said, when the man had gone.

“I am glad of that, for I want your society.  The Countess Margaret has a headache, and Lady Victoria has gone to dine in her rooms, and to spend the evening with her.”

“I am very sorry to hear that the Countess is not well,” said Claudius, “but I am very glad of anything that brings you here to-night.  I am in trouble—­that is, I have been very much annoyed.”

“Ah, very sorry,” said the Duke.

“It so happens that you are the only person in America, as far as I know, who can help me.”

“I?” The Duke opened his eyes wide.  Then he reflected that it might be something concerning the Countess, and waited.

“You are a gentleman,” said Claudius reflectively, and hardly addressing his visitor as he said it.

“Quite so,” said the Duke.  “It’s a very fine word that.”

“And a man of honour,” continued Claudius in a meditative tone.

“The deuce and all, it’s the same thing,” said the Duke, rather puzzled.

“Yes; in some countries it is.  Now, what I want to ask you is this.  Could you, as a gentleman and a man of honour, swear in a court of law that you know me, and that I am the person I represent myself to be?  That is the question.”

The Duke was too much surprised to answer directly.  He made a great fuss over his cigar, and got up and shut the window.  Then he sat down in another chair.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said at last, to gain time.

“I mean what I say,” said Claudius.  “Could you swear, before the Supreme Court of the United States, for instance, that I am Claudius, sometime student, now Doctor of Philosophy of the University of Heidelberg in Germany?  Could you swear that?”

“My dear boy,” said the other, “what in the world are you driving at?” The Duke realised that he could not conscientiously swear to any such statement as that proposed by Claudius; and, liking him as he did, he was much distressed at being put into such a corner.

“I will tell you afterwards what it is about, Duke,” said Claudius.  “I am serious, and I would like you to answer the question, though I foresee that you will say you could not swear to anything of the kind.”