Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 34: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

660 by equally tottering duennas. Am I mak- Ing myself clear?” “T think I get you, sir. The—the per- sonage wants to be let alone. To see a little of Paris life.” The secretary lifted a courteously depre- cating hand. 7 “ But only in a highly respectable man- ner, [ assure you. This is an escape—but mot an escapade! The Comte de Vaudreuil —by which name he will be known—will be free to go and come undisturbed by journalists, official welcomes, formal din- ners. And it happens that you are quite like him in appearance. Not that you could possibly be mistaken, one for the other, by even a casual acquaintance; but that monsieur le comte is, in fact, not known at all here, nor are you; and as you are about of an age, and of an equally admirable physique, the truth is that were he to assert himself to be Monsieur Strong, or were you on the contrary to present the card of Count Vaudreuil, there isn’t one chance in ten thousand that any one would question you, or him.” A startled look crept into George’s eyes as the trend of the secretary’s idea dawned upon him. The other caught the look, and hurried on. “In short, mon ami, the personage for whom I am solicitous is such rather from his connection with a much greater person- age, than from his own connection with in- ternational affairs. He is the son of a younger brother of one whose name i must not mention, but who is one of the six great- est living monarchs of Europe. This is as far as I am in honor permitted to go. He lives quietly upon a pension from this ex- alted one, in his castle in a small village ‘whose name would mean nothing to you. He is obliged to appear at court from time to time, and of course in his native village he is a little less than god, but not much. So that his appearance, and for the first time, in Paris, would be noticed only were he to use. his true title and then merely because of his relationship with the great one. He arrives to-morrow, accompanied by his valet de chambre. I have already booked him at a quiet but luxurious little hotel on the Champs Elysées as Count ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Vaudreuil. And not until good fortune threw me into your delightful company did “any better plan suggest itself to me.” He ceased speaking until two gendarmes had loitered past, and he had disposed of an old woman selling flowers by tossing her a franc. “Even as my master is coming to Paris for new experiences, why should you not enjoy some? Would it not be amusing for an American to be, for a few days, a real comte? Sauerbarten, the valet, would be in charge of you and his skill and experi- ence will guard you against any possible misadventure. I shall remain with my mas- ter. All your expenses at the hotel will be paid. Two francs for breakfast? I assure you, monsieur, that you shall eat two hun- dred francs’ worth if your appetite is so good. A carriage will be at your disposal at all times.. The finest wines, the choicest cigars, you have but to sign for. You will have, not a miserable attic in the Quartier, but the best suite I could obtain at the hotel. Exotic flowers will grace your table each morn. Theater tickets may be obtained at the hotel bureau, and charged to your bill. In short, you will live en prince, and, having the comte’s official sanction, you will be do- ing so without dishonor.” ‘“¢ And meanwhile the count—” “Will, naturally, be M. George Strong, free as air and unhampered by espionage of any sort. He will do nothing to bring disrepute upon your name, and naturally you will be equally discreet; for while as Count Vaudreuil it is true that he would be to a certain extent incognito, it is of course a fact that his identity would be known to the astute police, who would probably have an agent looking out for him. He would be known unofficially to the government. And it is probable that, sub rosa, his pres- ence would be known to the journalists. So that any—er—escapade, such as an appear- ance in the prize ring, or—I pray your par- don—worst of all, an affair with a woman, would bring veiled innuendoes that ‘ a cer- tain exalted personage known as the C. de V.” had been seen to do this, or that, in the company of so-and-so. But I am an ex- perienced reader. of men, mon ami; and I behold in you one whom vice has not been CEomicbooks (EOLA