" Here, Lulu, pet, come over, dear. Here's
Sir John Trotter, of whom you've heard me
speak many and many a time."

This he added with a sort of pathos; and
Lucy said, smiling: "Oh, yes!"

"My son is getting quite well again," said
Sir John, "thanks be to the Lord! So now I
have time to look about me. I am on my way
to see him at Paris. I got all your messages
by your kind friend, Mr. West."

"By my friend, West?" repeated Mr. Dacres,
wonderingly.

"Yes! when he visited me about you."

"Oh! true, true," said Mr. Dacres, with a
readiness he had picked up in court; "to be
sure. That time he went to you. And I am
glad you found him satisfactory."

"You couldn't have chosen a warmer
ambassador. He said everything he could, for he
saw I was a little put out, you know. He said
you would write, and I was surprised at not
hearing from you."

Lucy was listening, wondering, and with
something like a pang at her heart. Poor West!
This was generous and noble, indeed!

The mayor and the distinguished guests, all
round the amiable host, were complimenting,
smiling, bowing. It was near midnight, when
one of the servants, coming up to Beaufort, put
a note into his hand.

"Not too late to ask for an invitation, I
see," said the mayor, smiling, to Mr. Guernsey
Beaufort, whose anxious, worn face was turned
to the note. He saw a look of trouble in his
face, and, in a moment, up came Mr. Blacker,
express, pushing his way through.

"See here, Mr. Beaufort, could you spare us
a few minutes?—a most important matter;" and
he took him by the arm, and whispered in his
important way.

Captain Filby was close by, and felt that
an enormous screw was loose. He followed
them cautiously. Presently he reported thus:
"I kept my eye on 'em, and, just at the
door, saw that new man, Morton, and his
friend the judge's son, come up, and our
respected clergyman, and the consul, sir, was
with them." The gentlemen newly arrived were
in their travelling dresses, with the wondering
consul and clergyman invited by them to be
present; and one of the travellers, stepping
forward, said calmly, "I have asked you to
come in here to put a simple question."

"I don't understand this proceeding at all,"
said Mr. Guernsey Beaufort, a little wildly.

"It is for your own advantage," said the
other, "and, if you prefer it, we will go back
and put it before all the room. No; you would
not like that."

"I don't understand this business, either,"
said the consul. "Mr. Guernsey Beaufort is our
host, and as enterprising and as liberal—"

"Ah!" said the other, looking the host hard
in the face; "that brings me to the question I
would ask. Do you still maintain you are Mr.
Guernsey Beaufort, of Beaufort Manor?"

"I never said that. We are of the same
family—the same Beauforts—"

"Good gracious!" said Mr. Blacker. "Why,
you distinctly told me you were, and invited me
to Beaufort Manor."

"I have been there often," said Mr. Beaufort,
hurriedly; "and I know the place well, for
my wife was a Beaufort. Yes; and we are of
the same family."

"You are not," said Mr. Morton, promptly.
"I may tell these gentlemen I am Mr.
Guernsey Beaufort, of Beaufort Manor, who
have travelled over to expose this person."

"It is false!" gasped the detected host.

"I have proof, too, that this man carried on
this same imposture at Ostend: giving himself
out under the same name, and swindling some
of the tradespeople there. If he denies it—"

"I admit it—I own it all," said the unhappy
host, turning from one to the other. "But, for
pity's sake, spare us for to-night. My poor
wife is innocent. She is indeed a Beaufort."

The clergyman said, gravely:

"You can wait till the morning. She is
what he says, a kind, charitable, innocent lady;
and, for her sake, I think Mr. Guernsey
Beaufort—I mean you, sir—can wait."

"There can be no harm in that," said the
genuine Mr. Beaufort. "You can go back to
the company."

The pale and anxious face of Mrs. Guernsey
Beaufort—we may so call her, because she was
a Beaufort of some description—eagerly watched
her husband's return. He came up to madame
the mayoress, and, with a smile that Lucy long
remembered, said:

"It is unpardonable of Le Boeuf. I assure
you it was ordered for twelve punctually. I
must go and see after him myself. Pay what you
will, and whom you will, you see, madame, the
master must do a great deal himself"—a speech
afterwards repeated often in Dieppe circles,
when the curious story of the Beaufort ball
was told, as a triumph of assurance and self-
possession.

Mr. Beaufort was seen to go out of a side
door which led to the restaurant of the place,
and was shortly followed by his brother Ernest.
The two gentlemen were never seen again by
that company.

By half-past twelve Captain Filby was
positively outrageous in his language.

"Asking people to famish them in this way!
I believe there will be nothing to eat or drink
at all, and that the whole is a plant."

But now Le Boeuf himself had come with
the news. Where was M. Beaufore?

"Oh, he's all right, never fear; he's gone on.
Open the doors, and we'll follow quick enough."

But Le Boeuf would not entertain that view
of the matter.

Where was M. le Beaufore?

Where indeed! Who so fitting to ask, after
a quarter of an hour's wait, as pale Madame
le Beaufore? With a trembling voice, she—she
does not know; then, very faintly, "Perhaps
he has gone home unwell."

The truth flashes on Le Boeuf—a man of
quick wit, and accustomed to all sorts of men
in customer-shape.