_Cha._ (_gently opening_ 2 E. L. _door_). Yes, this is the room. (_Looking round._) She sleeps; my handkerchief too. Now, my charming girl, let me see your face. (_Takes candle, starts back._) Confound it! Well, there’s the end of my dream. [_Heaves a sigh, and goes out._ _Eliz._ (_starting up_). There’s somebody in the room. (_Goes to door at back, and looks in._) I knew she was up to something: I’ll find it out, see if I don’t. [_Exit_ 1 L. E. _Luc._ (_searching_). Ah, here it is at last,—Charles Devereux. It’s he, it’s he! (_She returns hastily, and bolts door._) Ah, how my heart beats! what shall I do now? (_Thinking._) The fact is, he’s very nice, notwithstanding his nickname. _Cha._ (_entering, and falling into arm-chair_). Another dream, that takes itself off to the land of dreams. (_Striking table._) No, it’s always the same. If you were to go to a masked ball where there was only one woman—oh, love! oh, frenzy! the mask falls, ugh! no more love, no more frenzy. The woman’s ninety, and ugly as—heaven knows what. _Luc._ He’s come in. (_Calling at door._) Mr. King! _Cha._ And such a voice! _Luc._ Sir. _Cha._ Woke her up, I suppose. Madam— _Luc._ Sir, I should like to have a few words of explanation with you. _Cha._ (_running to fasten door_). Oh, by jingo! _Luc._ He’s locked himself in. (_Aloud._) Pardon me, sir, for troubling you; but—but—if I mistake not, you are Mr. Charles Devereux, the nephew of Mr. Mortimer. _Cha._ I suppose you mean, madam, that that gentleman was my uncle. I don’t dispute the fact. (_Aside._) How the mischief did she find that out? Ah! it’s that confounded landlord told her. _Luc._ Well, sir, I’ve a most important communication to make to you from his adopted child. _Cha._ But I don’t want to hear what she’s got to say, madam. You know her? _Luc._ Yes, sir, I know her; and I also know that she has been seeking you for a long time, in order to give you up a fortune which by right belongs to you. _Cha._ What you propose, madam, is ridiculous. I could never accept a farthing. _Luc._ But suppose in seeing her you happen to like her, and that— _Cha._ I shall never like her. _Luc._ Perhaps you might. If she were like me, for instance? _Cha._ Never, madam. I’m sworn celibacy,—a knight of Malta, in fact. _Luc._ (_aside_). What an extraordinary change! (_Aloud._) Mr. King, I’m in the greatest danger, and you alone can save me. _Cha._ Madam, I’ve saved you twice to-night, and I distinctly refuse to do it any more. _Luc._ (_aside_). He’s absolutely getting impertinent. Sir, I have something to return to you that belongs to you,—a pocket-handkerchief. _Cha._ Thanks: I’ve got it,—one with a monogram. I really believe I must barricade my door. [_Puts furniture against door._