I. We Meet the Duke 195 II. We Improve the Acquaintance 201 III. The Maid and the Ring 215 IV. The Conspirators 219 A NECESSARY FOREWORD. In presenting for perusal a selection of private notes dealing with the sometimes eccentric doings of my gallant friend and compatriot, Captain the Hon. Bernard O’Hagan, V.C., D.S.O., I desire in the first place to assure my reader that O’Hagan is in no degree related to anyone else of the name. Recent circumstances have led him to resume military duties; but the splendid response of Democracy to the trumpet-call “Pro Patrià” has in no way unsettled his singular opinions. In the face of evidence to the contrary which many regard as conclusive, he maintains that the ideal form of government is government by an absolute monarchy. It forms no part of my plan either to support or to seek to disprove the theories of Captain O’Hagan. In justice to my distinguished friend, I must add that support and opposition alike are matters of indifference to him. He stands alone—aloof—aloft. Neither as apologist nor as eulogist do I pen these lines, but merely as the chronicler of remarkable events in the career of a remarkable man. EXPLOIT THE FIRST. HE PATRONISES PAMELA. EXPLOIT THE FIRST. HE PATRONISES PAMELA. I. THE HAT OF MR. PARKINS. A very wilderness is Bernard O’Hagan, which no man could hope thoroughly to explore; a most picturesque figure in the satin-lined cloak which he loves to wear in defiance of fashion and indeed of civilised custom, singularly resembling the Merry Monarch whom a lady of his race once entertained right regally at the ancestral home of the O’Hagans. The unexpectedness of the man is one of the most marked features of his character—the one that makes his society at once delightful and alarming. “My boy,” he will burst out, as we sit in a crowded café, “that gentleman yonder is unduly interested in my appearance.” And, stepping over to the offensive one: “Sir, you are staring at me. I suspect you of being a bum-bailiff!” “What!” says the other, in all probability—whilst, my friend and I the observed of many observers, I tremble for the outcome of the affair—“how dare you! Damn it! how dare you!” “Because,” replies O’Hagan, with a sort of calm ferocity, “I desire to pull your nose, and only await a fitting opportunity! You are a puppy, sir! There is my card!” The man leaps in anger to his feet. Others arise, too, and waiters approach. “You will regret this outrage!” says the man, pale or inflamed. “You will hear from my solicitor!” Then O’Hagan throws back his picturesque head and laughs.