"I'll tell your Grace the whole matter," said I readily enough, for I had nothing to blame myself with.
"No, I won't have it told," cried M. de Fontelles.
"It's my pleasure to hear it," said the Duke coldly.
"Well, sir, it was thus," said I, with a candid air. "I protested to this gentleman that my French was sadly to seek; he was polite enough to assure me that I spoke it well. Upon this I owned to some small knowledge, and for an example I said to him, 'J'aime, tu aimes, il aime.' He received the remark, sir, with the utmost amiability."
"He could do no less," said the Duke with a smile.
"But he would have it that this didn't exhaust my treasure of learning. Therefore, after leaving me for a moment to set straight a difference that had arisen between his servants and our host, he returned, put away a leathern case that he had left on the table (concerning which indeed he seemed more uneasy than would be counted courteous here in England, seeing that I had been all the while alone in the room with it), and allowed me to resume my exhibition of French-speaking. To humour him and to pass away the hour during which I was deprived of the pleasure of attending your Grace——"
"Yes, yes, Mr Dale. Don't delay in order to compliment me," said the Duke, smiling still.
"I leant across the table, sir, and I made him a speech that sent him, to all seeming, half-way out of his senses; for he sprang up, seized his case, looked at the fastenings, saw to the priming of his pistol, and finally presumed to exact from me a promise that I would consult nobody as to the perplexity into which this strange behaviour of his had flung me. To that I demurred, and hence the quarrel with which I regret most humbly that your Grace should have been troubled."
"I'm obliged to you, Mr Dale. But what was this wonder-working phrase?"