So saying, she enveloped herself in Louise's shawl, and pulled Louise's bonnet farther on her face, and prepared to enact the part of an offended, yet not altogether unforgiving beauty. But the door, on being slowly opened, presented, not the countenance of the baron, but the anxious face of Mr Bullion himself. The three French nobles pushed him forward. "Go on," they said; "make the best use of your eloquence. We will watch here, and guard the door against Beauvilliers himself." The marquis, now thoroughly sobered, slowly advanced: "If I can save this poor creature from the insolence of those _roués_, it will be well worth the suffering it has cost. Trust to me, madam," he said, in a very gentle voice, to the lady: "I will not suffer you to be insulted while I live. Come with me, madam, and you shall not be interrupted by ever a French profligate alive." On looking closely at the still silent lady on the sofa, he was startled at recognising a dress with which he was well acquainted. "In the name of heaven!" he said, "I adjure you to tell me who you are. Are you--is it possible--can you be my Louise!" "No, Mr Bullion," replied Miss Lucretia, lifting up the veil, and turning round to the trembling old man. "And I must say I'm considerably surprised to find you in a situation like this." "And you, madam--yourself--how came you here?" "A young gentleman--nobleman, I should say--ran off with me here, and I expected him every minute when you came in." "And Louise?" inquired the father, in an agitated voice--"when did you leave her? Oh! my folly to let her a moment out of my sight!--to reject Cecil Hope!--to bedizen myself in this ridiculous fashion! Where, oh where is Louise?" "Here, sir," exclaimed that lady, coming forward from behind the window-curtain. "And safe? Ah! but I need not ask. I see two honest Englishmen by your side." "And one of them, sir, says he'll never leave it," said Louise. "Stop a moment," replied the marquis. "Ho! gentlemen, come in." At his request his companions entered the room. "Gentlemen," said the marquis, "when I determined to reclaim my father's sword, I expected to find it bright as Bayard's, and unstained with infamy or dishonour. When I wished to resume my title, I hoped to find it a sign of the heroic virtues of my ancestors, but not a cloak for falsehood and vice. I warn you, sirs, your proceedings will be fatal to your order, and to your country. For myself, I care not for this sword,"--he threw it on the ground--"this filagree I despise,"--he took off his star and ribbon--"and I advise you to leave this chamber as fast as you can find it convenient." The French nobles obeyed. "Here, Cocker! off with all this silk and satin; get me my gaiters and flaxen wig; and, please Heaven, one week will see us in the little room above the warehouse." "Preparing, sir, to move into Hertfordshire?" inquired Louise, leaning on Cecil's arm.