“That he has been unfortunate with the unlucky,” said the Duke, laughing, and good-naturedly alluding to his own failure in the expedition to the Netherlands; “but who is your friend?” “The Knight of Gwynne,--an Irish gentleman.” “One of your late supporters, eh, Castlereagh?” said the Duke, laughing. “How came he to be forgotten till this hour? Or did you pass him a bill of gratitude payable at nine months after date?” “No, my Lord, he was an opponent; he was a man that I never could buy, when his influence and power were such as to make the price of his own dictating. Since that day, fortune has changed with him.” “And what do you want with him now?” said the Duke, while his eyes twinkled with a sly malice; “are you imitating the man that bowed down before statues of Hercules and Apollo at Rome, not knowing when the time of those fellows might come up again? Is that your game?” “Not exactly, your Royal Highness; but I really feel some scruples of conscience that, having assisted so many unworthy candidates to pensions and peerages, I should have done nothing for the most upright man I met in Ireland.” “If we could make him a Commissary-General,” said the Duke, laughing, “the qualities you speak of would be of service now: there never was such a set of rascals as we have got in that department! But come, what can we do with him? What 's his rank in the army? Where did he serve?” “If I dare present him to your Royal Highness without a uniform,” said Lord Castlereagh, hesitatingly, “he could answer these queries better than I can.” “Oh, by Jove! it is too late for scruples now,--introduce him at once.” Lord Castlereagh waited for no more formal permission, but, hastening to the antechamber, took Darcy's hand, and led him forward. “If I don't mistake, sir,” said the Duke, as the old man raised his head after a deep and courteous salutation, “this is not the first time we have met. Am I correct in calling you Colonel Darcy?” The Knight bowed low in acquiescence. “The same officer who raised the Twenty-eighth Light Dragoons, known as Darcy's Light Horse?” The Knight bowed once more. “A very proud officer in command,” said the Duke, turning to Lord Castlereagh with a stern expression on his features; “a colonel who threatened a prince of the blood with arrest for breach of duty.” “He had good reason, your Royal Highness, to be proud,” said the Knight, firmly; “first, to have a prince to serve under his command; and, secondly, to have held that station and character in the service to have rendered so unbecoming a threat pardonable.” “And who said it was?” replied the Duke, hastily. “Your Royal Highness has just done so.” “How do you mean?” “I mean, my Lord Duke,” said Darcy, with a calm and unmoved look, “that your Royal Highness would never have recurred to the theme to one humbled as I am, if you had not forgiven it.”