the temptation.  Monsieur Baptiste took off his hat, blushing at the hint Colonel Esmond ventured to give him, and said:—­“Tenez, elle est jolie, la petite mere.  Foi de Chevalier! elle est charmante; mais l’autre, qui est cette nymphe, cet astre qui brille, cette Diane qui descend sur nous?” And he started back, and pushed forward, as Beatrix was descending the stair.  She was in colors for the first time at her own house; she wore the diamonds Esmond gave her; it had been agreed between them, that she should wear these brilliants on the day when the King should enter the house, and a Queen she looked, radiant in charms, and magnificent and imperial in beauty.

Castlewood himself was startled by that beauty and splendor; he stepped back and gazed at his sister as though he had not been aware before (nor was he very likely) how perfectly lovely she was, and I thought blushed as he embraced her.  The Prince could not keep his eyes off her; he quite forgot his menial part, though he had been schooled to it, and a little light portmanteau prepared expressly that he should carry it.  He pressed forward before my Lord Viscount.  ‘Twas lucky the servants’ eyes were busy in other directions, or they must have seen that this was no servant, or at least a very insolent and rude one.

Again Colonel Esmond was obliged to cry out, “Baptiste,” in a loud imperious voice, “have a care to the valise;” at which hint the wilful young man ground his teeth together with something very like a curse between them, and then gave a brief look of anything but pleasure to his Mentor.  Being reminded, however, he shouldered the little portmanteau, and carried it up the stair, Esmond preceding him, and a servant with lighted tapers.  He flung down his burden sulkily in the bedchamber:—­“A Prince that will wear a crown must wear a mask,” says Mr. Esmond in French.

“Ah peste!  I see how it is,” says Monsieur Baptiste, continuing the talk in French.  “The Great Serious is seriously”—­“alarmed for Monsieur Baptiste,” broke in the Colonel.  Esmond neither liked the tone with which the Prince spoke of the ladies, nor the eyes with which he regarded them.

The bedchamber and the two rooms adjoining it, the closet and the apartment which was to be called my lord’s parlor, were already lighted and awaiting their occupier; and the collation laid for my lord’s supper.  Lord Castlewood and his mother and sister came up the stair a minute afterwards, and, so soon as the domestics had quitted the apartment, Castlewood and Esmond uncovered, and the two ladies went down on their knees before the Prince, who graciously gave a hand to each.  He looked his part of Prince much more naturally than that of servant, which he had just been trying, and raised them both with a great deal of nobility, as well as kindness in his air.  “Madam,” says he, “my mother will thank your ladyship for your hospitality to her son; for you, madam,” turning to Beatrix, “I cannot bear to see so much beauty in such a posture.  You will betray Monsieur Baptiste if you kneel to him; sure ’tis his place rather to kneel to you.”